


History

by kunstaeilation



Category: NCT (Band), SM Rookies
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Canon, Canon Compliant, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Face-Fucking, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Panic Attacks, Pining, Slow Burn, Swallowing, Teasing, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2019-11-16 12:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 79,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18094631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunstaeilation/pseuds/kunstaeilation
Summary: It's New Years 2019, just past midnight and Johnny and Ten? Well, they've got some history from the first day they met in 2013 until now.---I hope you guys like long rides because we'll be taking it slow.





	1. Nostalgia

Booming bass radiated forth from the phone Johnny held. He sat in bed cross legged, eyes glued on the flashing images before him. Although there were seven people in the video, he was fixated on one person in particular: Ten. For the fourth time, he appeared on screen dressed in a dark vest adorned by brass embellishments beneath a black blazer with embroidered roses. A slender hand rested on a leather belt as a mounted camera lurched to life behind him. The lights flickered on one by one on either side while he stood motionless, gaze piercing through the screen. His sharp eyes were one that hadn’t changed in the last 5 years that Johnny had known him.

“They all look so cool,” Taeyong mumbled beside Johnny, cutting through his trance. They were sitting in their room on Johnny’s bed, hunched over the phone while a candle flickered lazily beside them, spreading the scent of crisp pear. It was half past midnight, but boisterous laughter and rowdy cheers tumbled forth from the living room as the others continued their New Year’s celebrations.

Johnny had gone back to their room ten minutes ago with the intention of watching the video in peace just once before returning, but now he found himself replaying it over and over again instead. After all, he’d been anticipating it ever since Ten had told him about it—they all were. Ten and the outliers were finally getting a sub unit of their own and they were picking up three new members as well. How could they not be excited for their friends?

He was especially thrilled for Ten. Sure, he was happy for Kun and Lucas as well, but he was partial towards Ten. They had history after all. Johnny didn’t even meet the others until around a year and a half ago when it was decided that Kun, Lucas, and Jungwoo would be joining NCT. On the other hand, Ten had fallen in between the cracks ever since NCT had started and sat in an awkward space of being part of the group, but not a part of a fixed sub unit. Even though Ten was given projects of his own, it just wasn’t quite the same since he wasn’t a solo artist. Still, work was work and Ten had been pleased to get whatever he could.

Even now, Johnny could still remember the very first time they met. It was the summer of 2013. School had just finished for the year and within the week, Johnny was on a plane yet again heading back to Seoul as he had done every summer for the past couple of years. But this time, it was different. Instead of spending his summers in Seoul and school months back in Chicago, he was now moving to Seoul. No longer would he have to endure the 5 hour flight to Los Angeles followed by another sleepless 13 hour one trapped in economy trying to cram his now almost 6 foot stature in that tiny space.

As soon as Johnny landed, he braced himself for the sweltering humidity that’d greet him as soon as he stepped off the plane. Something he didn’t miss in the slightest. Cold he could handle—especially the kind of winters Chicago would get. Ferocious winds that would penetrate all but the thickest parka on top of two sometimes three layers of clothes. And it wasn’t the nice kind of parka either. It had to be the long ridiculous kind that covered his legs, but the frigid suffering never lasted long. It couldn’t have since the frost would nip and sting, driving him indoors long before he stopped feeling his limbs.

Summers in Korea came with sticky humidity that clung to Johnny’s skin forcing him to shower two, sometimes three or more times a day just to feel fresh and clean—not to mention how his long bangs would always find a way to glue to his forehead. A sluggishness that sapped the energy out of him on the hottest days would sit around for hours on end with no reprieve until late at night as well. Sometimes the air conditioning barely even helped his sanity. And then there were the insects. Mosquitos that always seemed to find him with their distinct whine just as he was about to fall asleep. Gnat clouds that he’d inevitably walk into at least once when he wasn’t paying attention. House flies that would repeatedly fly into windows or irritatingly hover around his food. Korean summers was definitely something he did not miss.

Nor did he miss the first few days back in Korea. Adapting back to life in Seoul had gotten easier and easier as the years went by, but the first few days always felt like being ran over by a train. Unlike his quiet suburbs near Chicago, Seoul bustled with life. Just standing in the airport at the baggage claim listening to couples argue and children whine at their parents was overwhelming enough as his brain struggled to tune back into Korean and comprehend it all.

Everything was also just too crowded as well. People were always rushing past him, sometimes even bumping into him without so much as an apology as they sped away to their destination. He would feel like a clumsy giant then—a burden to these strangers as he wove through the crowd even though they were the rude ones. But within the week, Johnny would get back into the swing of things again and melt into the crowd, blending in instead of sticking out. It was a routine he had gotten used to over the years. During the first few summers his mom would fly with him, worried about him getting lost at the airport, how he’d cope in Korea, and what if he got sick or worse yet, in an accident? But by the third summer his parents quickly realized that he’d be fine. Still, they fretted.

By the time he arrived at the dorms, it was evening. His new friends were there to greet him now, taking the place Sehun and Suho used to have. Back then, he used to feel the sharp twinge of bitterness whenever he thought about it. Why didn’t they debut him as well? He had trained with them for years and even longer than some of the members in Exo, but the answer was crystal clear to him. He simply wasn’t good enough. He didn’t have a phenomenal voice that would make people stop in their tracks in awe like Chen did nor were his dancing skills particularly impressive like some of the others. He was simply average. Mediocre. Unsurprising since the others didn’t fly back between countries, allowing them that much more time for training. He tried to make up for it wherever he could like joining the choir at school and dancing alone at home, however it wasn’t enough. But now Johnny planned to make Seoul his new home and make up for all that missed time.

“Welcome back and welcome home!” Jaehyun and Taeyong excitedly greeted Johnny as soon as he opened the door. They had both become trainees the year before and Johnny befriended them both, trying to bury his disappointment and frustration now that his friends had left him behind. Johnny grinned and hugged them back, noting how the two of them seemed to be closer to eye level with him.

“Come on,” Taeyong grabbed one of his bags. Johnny felt the familiar giddiness bubbling up inside as he followed them down the hall, catching up on all the things he had missed. Coming back to the dorms always felt like going to summer camp: clamorous fun-filled days with close friends, huddling around together at a massive table for food, long conversations that lasted well into the night. It was a blast—for the first week or two anyway. Slowly and surely, fatigue from endless lessons upon lessons would begin to sink in, no less unforgiving than the year before. Then Johnny’s days were filled with beaten muscles, stiff joints, and a hoarse voice as he disciplined his body to get used to training again.

They soon stopped in front of a plain wooden door that matched the one across form it: his newest room. Rarely did he ever stay in the same room twice. There were always new trainees after all. “SURPISE!!” Mark, Yuta, and Hansol popped out in front of him.

Johnny broke out into a wide grin and hugged the three of them. They too came in as fresh trainees last year and just like Taeyong and Jaehyun, Johnny took care of them—especially Mark and Yuta. He knew exactly what it was like to be a foreigner in an unfamiliar country and tried his best to help them out. As he greeted the familiar faces, he spotted an unfamiliar one.

“Wow, it’s a disaster,” Taeyong murmured, picking a shirt up off the floor. The room was chaos—unsurprising when 4 boys were crammed into a small room. Two bunkbeds sat on either end of the room with two desks in between them. Clothes, books, snacks, bottles of skincare, and more were scattered on any empty surface that was available. Blankets and pillows sat in crumpled heaps and shoes peeked out from beneath the beds.

His new roommates looked at one another and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, we should clean up a bit,” Hansol replied, hastily picking things up off the floor. Yuta and the new boy followed suit while Johnny laughed at them. He had only known Taeyong for the few months he was last in Korea, but he had quickly grown familiar with Taeyong’s fastidiousness. It was a reflection of Taeyong’s sense of standard, an image of what he should be like and how to behave.

“Oh yeah, you haven’t met Ten yet,” Jaehyun said with a dimpled smile, quietly motioning to the new boy. At the sound of his name, Ten looked up and flashed a smile at Johnny.

“Hi!” Ten waved brightly.

“Hey,” Johnny introduced himself, taking a closer look at Ten’s face. Quickly, he realized two things about Ten. One: he had the most dignified face that Johnny had ever seen. While Taeyong had a certain air of intensity, Ten’s had a sense of elegance. The most prominent feature of his were his eyes. Ten had a gaze that ensnared Johnny and commanded all attention on him. One look, and it felt like Johnny was drowning in those tarry pools.

Two, Ten exuded a unique confidence and ambition. All the trainees were equally enthusiastic—energetically going to all their lessons day in and day out, even staying behind to practice some more hours after the instructors have left. Their drive was how they became trainees in the first place after all. But Ten had an aura of belonging. There was never any sense of working hard to achieve a dream—no sense of conquering the world and taking things for himself. They were already his. All Ten was doing was taking the scenic route, strolling amongst what he already possessed and admiring the view.

“I heard you’re from the US,” Ten tripped over his words, still in the early beginning stages of learning Korean.

“Yes, I am. I’m from Chicago,” Johnny replied, laying his suitcase in a cleared space. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from Thailand,” Ten blurted out in English, much to Johnny’s surprise.

“You speak English?” he asked, feeling the familiar syllables roll off his tongue as he looked up from his bag.

“Yes! I learned it at an international school in Thailand,” he explained. Ten’s speech had a pleasing lilt to it that Johnny had never heard before.

“Cool!” Johnny exclaimed. He was ecstatic that there were now two English speakers that he could relax with. Even after all the summers in Seoul, speaking Korean was still uncomfortable. It was difficult wrapping his mind around the subtle differences—or sometimes the lack of differences—between sounds. Then there was the grammar. That thing was another entity on its own. “Where in Thailand are you from?”

“Bangkok,” Ten answered as he took a pile of folded clothes and put them into a drawer.

“Oh, cool. I’ve never been there before.”

“Really? You want to go with me one day?”

“Yeah man, that sounds awesome!” Johnny had enthusiastically replied. He didn’t know it at that time, but he’d soon be going to Thailand together with Ten and the others multiple times over the years.

Later that night, Johnny and the others sat around in the kitchen catching up and letting Johnny know all the things he had missed out on while he had been in the US. He also met some of the new trainees that joined while he was away: Doyoung and Taeil. They spoke about Exo’s debut, a new rumoured trainee program made to debut promising rookies, and some of the other trainees that Johnny still hadn’t met yet. Ten had sat beside him the entire time, taking advantage of Johnny’s understanding of both languages as he asked him questions. Johnny happily obliged, finally feeling like all the time he had spent learning Korean had finally paid off as he helped Ten.

That very first day of his new start in Korea stayed as one of Johnny’s most vivid memories. For years, he had indecisively dwindled away his time choosing to fly back and forth between the two countries, terrified of making the decision to move to Korea. Whenever he thought about moving, the doubts that simmered beneath the surface bubbled over, choking him and drowning him in a sea of his own insecurities.

_What if I don’t make it? What if I’m not good enough?_ The thoughts would wiggle in, kicking off the spiral of self-doubt. _What if I’m not chosen? Will my friends debut before me? Would I quit? Will I quit? What will I do then?_ And on and on it’d go, sinking him further and further until he felt the brink of insanity where it felt like he’d do anything just to escape his own torment. The only thing that would help was when he was busy, so he flung himself into training.

It was only when Exo’s debut slapped him in the face that he realized he had to decide and what he really, truly wanted was to become an idol. It had been what drove him all the years leading up to Exo’s debut and it stubbornly stayed there, unwilling to give up even after they had left him behind. With his mind made up, he bit the bullet and told his parents he was moving to Seoul.

All his hopes and dreams back then never even came close to the reality he was living now. Johnny had always pictured himself on stage singing and dancing in a vague group that was made up by his old friends, but after they debuted they were slowly replaced by Taeyong, Jaehyun, Yuta, Hansol, and Ten as they grew closer and closer. Now, he lived under a single roof with some of them in a spacious house—or as spacious as it could be with nine people living together. The room that he shared with Taeyong was by no means big, but it was big enough. It was certainly larger than the small room he was crammed into just a handful of years ago. He didn’t even own his own bed nor furniture back then. They weren’t even allowed to decorate their rooms, but now they were freer. Not entirely free since their company still paid for their living expenses, but still free.

Johnny replayed the video for the last time and reached for his glass of leftover champagne, thoughts of going back to the living room long gone.

“You can have the rest of mine,” Taeyong told him, pushing his untouched glass towards Johnny as he stood up.

“You don’t want anymore?”

Taeyong shook his head, currently dyed a vivid bright red. “No, I already had enough earlier,” he replied as he made his way to his computer to game. Johnny shrugged and took a sip, feeling the fizzy bubbles dancing on his tongue before picking up his phone. He sat there for a few moments, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to Ten about what happened in Thailand ever since they returned a few weeks ago. They were far too busy. Johnny had upcoming concerts to prep for while Ten was busy with his own schedules. Their group practices with everybody else were also a terrible place to talk. Too many prying ears. Still, he felt obligated to his friend and sent a congratulatory message to Ten as well as the others. As he sent the final message, Ten replied.

_Thanks hyung!!_ ’ the message read, ‘ _I’m really really really happy and excited!!_ ’ Before Johnny could reply, he got another text. _‘Can I call you?_ ’

Johnny glanced at Taeyong who had his headphones on, humming as he busily clicked away at a game he was playing. _‘Sure,_ ’ he texted, draining the rest of his drink.

A few seconds later, his phone vibrated as Ten facetimed him, freshly out of the shower. “Did you watch it??” he demanded, swinging his phone around wildly as he walked. “Was I sexy?? Hot? How was I?”

“Of course, I watched it. So did the rest of us. You guys looked really awesome,” Johnny replied, waiting for Ten to settle down. He couldn’t help but notice the way Ten’s damp hair was slicked back. It reminded him of far too much.

“I was so nervous waiting for it to come out that I kept refreshing Twitter instead during the countdown,” Ten said, bringing the phone up to his face and pushing his hair back. Johnny tried to ignore the innocent gesture.

“I almost forgot it was New Years,” he thickly swallowed, hoping that Ten didn’t notice, “I got so distracted by the video.” He reached over to grab Taeyong’s glass of champagne. _Can’t let it go to waste_. “Happy 2019!”

“Oh! Wait a minute! I want to get something to drink too!” Ten exclaimed. He set the phone down on his bed and left. A moment later, Ten was back with a glass and a bottle in hand. “Okay, I have some! Happy 2019!” he cheered.

They both gulped down half their drink and grinned at each other. “Did you celebrate New Years alone?” Johnny questioned, starting to feel the warmth from his drink spread down his torso. Ten looked like he was at his dorm, but it was both New Years and the announcement of his upcoming debut, so Johnny expected him to be out celebrating.

“No. I just got home and showered,” Ten replied, “I celebrated with Kun, Lucas, and the rest at our dorm earlier, but I have a few more things here to pack up.”

“Oh yeah, I remember Winwin mentioning something about that. You guys must’ve been excited,” Johnny laughed, already picturing the scene. He could still clearly remember his own exuberance and relief when the Limitless teasers had finally come out. For so long, Johnny had chipped away at a dream that wasn’t even a guarantee, gritting his teeth and putting in the work day in and day out without rest and only after nearly eight years did his effort finally pay off. The weeks and months leading up to the day of Limitless’ drop had been a surreal experience: discussing the terms of his contract with NCT 127, signing it, recording with the others, moving into a new dorm with them, practicing the choreography, and finally shooting the music video. Each day seemed to crawl at a snail’s pace as the hours languidly stretched out, taking its sweet time in letting him realize his dream. But then one day would end, and then the next one, and then the one after that and before he knew it, he had finally officially debuted. Now it was finally Ten’s turn to experience it.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Johnny asked.

“The very first time we met?”

Johnny nodded. Something about the video, the alcohol in his system, and chatting with Ten like this had him feeling nostalgic. It reminded him of their trainee days where they used to just sit around and talk all day long or go out and have some fun instead. Each day had been a blast and having Ten by his side made it that much better.

“It was at that dorm wasn’t it? The old one we used to stay at. We met a few months after I first came to Korea,” Ten replied.

“Yeah, that one.” Johnny nodded again. That house was jam-packed with memories—memories of his old friends and memories of his new ones. Memories of Ten. All those things that happened between them—their fights, their laughter, their tears, their joys—all of it, locked behind one building.

“Yeah, I remember it. I remember thinking how American you looked and I was like ‘Oh, he’s really from the US’,” Ten grinned, eyes squinting up in a playful curve.

Johnny chuckled. “Well, I am American after all.” Back then, he couldn’t get used to Korea no matter how much he had tried. There were so many cultural nuances that Johnny hadn’t been able to understand. Most of the other Korean trainees tried their best to help him out, but there was always that invisible chasm, a gaping bottomless fissure between them that couldn’t be crossed. It was one of the many reasons why Johnny couldn’t commit to moving to Korea for so long. He felt like an alien—a barbarian that looked and acted exactly like a human all but in name. But when he started meeting other foreign trainees, he quickly realized that he wasn’t the only one struggling and felt like it was his duty to help them out. It was the biggest thing that helped him finally start the healing process from the blow that Exo had left him with.

Although it tore him up back then, Johnny was glad that he was never a part of Exo—something that would’ve been unimaginable to his younger self. Despite all those summers he had spent with them slaving away with their bodies and voices, going through the same training side by side day in and day out, he could always feel that rift pervading every single interaction he had with them. It didn’t matter that they sat at the same table eating the same food and slept under one roof sharing the same space. It didn’t matter that nearly every single hour whether awake or asleep was spent together nor that they comforted one another when weekly evaluations weren’t up to par. There was just that abyss that Johnny couldn’t cross. NCT had a far more welcoming atmosphere and it was a better fit for him than Exo would’ve been.

Still, Johnny treasured the time he had spent with them, even if their debut left him feeling otherwise. They weren’t to blame for the decision of the company after all. Knowing what he knew now, he would’ve made the exact same choices and gone through the exact same pain without a second thought. After all, he was content where he was now. The only single lingering disappointment he had centered on Ten.

_What do I want with him?_ It was more of a feeling than a thought—a constant, gnawing state of dissatisfaction that could only be momentarily satiated by spending time with Ten, but the thirst was never quenched. It would come and go, weaving in between the crevices of his mind, surfacing just enough to keep Johnny from fully enjoying their own individual successes. Just what did he want with Ten? Even now, he could still feel the bitter twang of jealousy whenever he thought of how Ten had been a part of NCT U, but for some reason it never felt like he was jealous _of_ Ten. It was only after Ten told him about WayV nearly a year ago that the relentless discontent that Johnny had buried began to rear its ugly head once again.

Johnny should’ve been thrilled for his friend. Ecstatic even. And he was—except for that damned nagging frustration. Reprieve only ever came whenever he was with Ten, but then it’d return soon after, more grating than before. It wasn’t as if Johnny was blind to why he felt the way he did, but he had to deny it. It was his own Pandora’s box and the beast it held within would ruin him—ruin them. The monster was frantic too. Desperate. It howled to be free—to be unshackled—and it had been, once, once upon a time, now buried as a filthy, unspoken smear in history.

It began innocently enough—so innocent that it could have stayed undisturbed and undetected for the many years to come if it hadn’t been for Johnny’s own foolishness in giving into temptation. He had always felt especially attentive to Ten, but he always thought that it was a kinship of sorts—some kind of mix of responsibility, duty, and affection for his foreign friend. He felt similarly with Mark and Yuta after all, but his care for them never did quite have the same urgency—the same need—as it did with Ten. It was only after people started talking about the amount of time they spent together and just how close they seemed to be that Johnny started to really look and question himself about what was really going on. That’s when the pieces began falling into place.

First, it started with curiosity. Everything Ten did was met with scrutiny—put under a microscope by Johnny to examine. Every single thing, big or small, was carefully analyzed. The people Ten seemed to talk to the most would find themselves befriended by Johnny as well. Not hard since Johnny was already around Ten all the time, but it was a great disguise for his true motives. How Ten regarded him and the others was of greater interest to Johnny more than anything else. He’d watch the way Ten would dart his eyes as he spoke to others or how he’d maintain a laser focus and then Johnny would contemplate its meaning. Then there were the smaller, less noticeable movements: how Ten would purse his lips or lick them, tilt his head as he spoke to somebody, how he folded his hands, where he placed them, and so on and so forth. Then there were the super unobvious things that went unnoticed, unless someone was watching Ten often enough to take note. Someone like Johnny.

Second: obsession and yearning. Whenever Johnny wasn’t with Ten, he’d catch himself thinking about him and hoping to see him in the practice room or maybe at vocal lessons later on. If it went on longer than a day or more—a rare instance that would happen on occasion—Johnny was unhappy. Grumpy even. Irritable. He’d pick up his phone and text Ten, feigning friendly care of what he was up to when really, Johnny needed to satiate a deeper hunger. Whenever he found Ten doing something without him, displeasure would spread as he conspired a way to ease his way in. The worst was whenever Ten was doing things with other people. Then he was extremely dissatisfied.

Third came the sudden realization. He had a _crush_ on Ten.

Fourth. The denial. It couldn’t be possible. They were only friends.

Fifth. Acceptance and resignation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! this is the first story i've ever written in my entire life so i hope you guys are enjoying it so far!
> 
> if you're curious, i first got my initial inspiration from [ james bay - pink lemonade ](https://open.spotify.com/track/5nSDY75s6O6jA0K7J1EMYQ) ([youtube link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qE-gdNIL8WI)). i found it on a ten's recommended playlist that i stumbled onto on spotify and the lyrics just _struck_ me. i wanted to do something with it and i knew that ten had to be the character to do it with, but didn't know what. then i found it, my main inspiraiton for the overarching theme and also the namesake of the story: [rich brian - history](https://open.spotify.com/track/4TwVtW8hS5LyLoDtJGpUOg) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYE9WB22KZo)). when i think of johnten, i think of their rookie days and how long they've been together and i just wanted to play around with their shared history, so this happened.
> 
> last but not least, the single song you have to blame for the upcoming angst: [nothing but thieves - lover, please stay](https://open.spotify.com/track/3QxCvkqWdkMqy3CPxOhZ24) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1A0G1d8Kzw)). i also found this song on the same playlist that i found the james bay song on.
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading my small ramble and thanks again for reading my story! 
> 
> (ps, if you want the ten playlist and a collection of all the other nct members' recommended songs, go [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5p9nKU54xR1vOl46akCRY3)).
> 
>  
> 
> \--  
> come say hi!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)


	2. Hocus Pocus

Johnny could still remember the very first time he felt that giddy rush of excitement—that light-headed spin, the tumble in his chest, the airy clouds beneath his feet. It was at that dance studio—the old infamous one with the sky background that smelt of stale musk with a hint of sour. He was sitting on the wooden floor chatting with Doyoung during one of their breaks when Ten had sauntered over, sinking down between the two of them. Nothing out of the ordinary. What was strange, however, was the fact that Ten had draped himself over both their laps with his head on Johnny’s and his legs on Doyoung’s.

“I’m tired and my body hurts,” Ten whined, poking at Doyoung with a foot. “Massage me.”

“Massage yourself,” Doyoung clicked his tongue, lightly shoving Ten’s legs off his lap only to have Ten plop them right back where they were.

“You’re so mean,” Ten pouted. “You should be thankful I’m even allowing you to massage me.” Doyoung rolled his eyes, the ebony orbs glaring stark against white as he stood up and all but threw the legs off his lap. Johnny had chuckled at them, enjoying Doyoung’s clear displeasure. He still wasn’t all too familiar with Doyoung yet, but there was something entertaining about watching the flare of temperamental irritation—something that Ten had discovered too, much to the misfortune of Doyoung.

By now, Johnny had been living in Seoul for a few months and he was growing used to everybody’s quirks—Ten and Doyoung’s included. Johnny and Ten had rapidly became fast friends in the short amount of time they had known one another, but their friendship went above and beyond the shared language. Nor was it due to all the time spent in each other’s company as they ate, trained, and went home together. There was something that just seemed to click. Something that seemed to fit in a way that nobody else could recreate. It was like discovering something that Johnny didn’t even realize he was missing—something that made life a bit more bearable to deal with.

He heard a sigh beneath him followed by a light nudge on his arm. “Will you massage me?” Ten looked up at Johnny pleadingly with just the slightest glint of mischief that Johnny missed.

The simple request coupled with that sweet face was hard to reject. “Sure,” Johnny replied, awkwardly twisting his gigantic body to reach Ten’s shoulders as he propped Ten up to lean against his knees. The shoulder beneath his hand were sinewy and lean—a surprising contrast with Ten’s slender frame. Ten’s eyes fluttered shut as he let out a contented sigh, relaxing against Johnny.

Johnny’s hands stilled as he looked down at Ten, his heart skipping a beat at the all too sensual sight. Ten’s head was thrown back, lips parted and neck exposed while his hair sat in a tousled mess. Even his shirt was riding up giving Johnny a hint of the velvety honeyed skin that laid beneath.

“Hyung??” Ten lazily cracked an eye open. “Why did you stop?”

“S-sorry, “Johnny choked out, resuming his massage and ignoring the stir in his chest. _Just what was that?_

A week later, it was during one of their weekly meetings where they had all gathered up in the living room. It wasn’t normally done there since it was way too cramped to fit all of the trainees, but for some reason or another, it was the only time they could all gather up and meet. Johnny had gotten a spot on the couch and was waiting for the rest of the boys to trickle in. He had all but forgotten about the incident in the dance studio so when Ten sat on the floor in front of him, he didn’t think much of it beyond a fleeting contentment at having a friend nearby to suffer a meeting with. He didn’t even think twice when Ten leaned his head back onto the couch between his legs, but when Ten looked up at him with a cheeky grin Johnny lost it.

He grabbed a pillow and placed it on his lap, hoping that the guise of making Ten more comfortable was convincing enough to cover up his true reason. _What the fuck just happened??_ He stared down at his friend. That expression of Ten’s had sent a shiver down his spine and straight into his groin—something he hadn’t felt ever since he moved.

Johnny sat frozen stiff in place as one of the managers started talking. He wanted to stand up and move, wanted to sit somewhere else far away, wanted to pick up his legs—literally anything else, but he felt rooted to the spot, horrified at the stirring beneath the pillow. It didn’t help that Ten kept playing with his pant leg and shifting side to side. At one point, he even leaned his head against Johnny’s leg and stared up at Johnny, making a pained face as he mouthed the words, “I’m sooo bored.”

 _Just what the fuck is happening?_ He choked down a grunt when Ten shifted once again. The pressure from the pillow was uncomfortably close to his groin and every little adjustment Ten had made was just a tad too much. It hadn’t been _that_ long since he last relieved himself—maybe two weeks at most. It was sneaky task to do in a house bursting full of other people—people who had a habit of bursting in unannounced. Once in a rare while, they just picked the lock instead. The deed took some finessing, some luck, and sometimes frustration, so the opportunity rarely presented itself. _That’s why_ , Johnny tried to reassure himself.

He felt Ten lift his head and before he knew it, Ten had one arm propped on top of Johnny’s legs as a cushion for his head, flashing a smile at Johnny before turning back to their manager. _Is this on purpose??_ Johnny bit down on the inside of his cheek. But that was impossible. Ten didn’t even notice his torment. All his attention was on the ongoing meeting, despite the unfocused gaze.

 _Okay Johnny, get your shit together_ , he balled his hands into tight fists, trying to ground himself with the pain. Just as Johnny started relaxing and paying attention to the meeting, a constant tickling sensation on the outside of his thigh caught his attention. _Strange_. He scratched at it, only to discover Ten’s hand dangling there instead. Ten, caught red handed, looked back at Johnny through his bangs with a sly smile on his lips.

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny breathed before coughing, trying to dispel both the strange looks he got and the pictures that flashed in his mind. Rumbling from Ten trying to hold back his laughter jolted up along his thigh and it was all Johnny could do to not groan in frustration. Why was this happening to him and why did it feel so fucking _good?_

It was at this time that the warning bells had started sounding, but Johnny willfully ignored them. Whatever Ten was stirring up in him was just some confused, benign friendly feeling that must’ve sprouted from being so lonely all these years. Ten had been the first friend with whom Johnny was finally able to cross that chasm with—the bridge connecting Johnny to all their other friends who stood on the other side. For the first time since coming to Korea, Johnny was no longer a feature on a freakshow for all to see—a caricature of the typical, ignorant American. For the first time, Johnny felt validated. Accepted. Genuinely liked as a human being instead of being merely tolerated with a pitiful smile. It was all thanks to Ten. How he did it, Johnny didn’t know, but whatever magic it was made Johnny curious about Ten.

The first thing he learned was just how much Ten talked with his eyes. Titillating conversation would enliven those dark orbs making them twirl and glimmer with rapt attention as they bewitched others and drew people in. They could make a person feel as if they were the most delightful person that Ten had had the pleasure of speaking to and that their every word was a treasured gift made especially just for him. But the moment Ten got bored those buoyant eyes of his would flatten into a disappointed matte ebony. He would never tell anyone of course nor give any hint of his own disinterest, but they would feel the sudden drop in esteem instinctively.

There was also how Ten would interact with other people. His slender hands were rarely idle, acting like a second mouth with how much his simple actions added to conversations. One moment they’d be up in the air gesturing wildly about something and the next they’d be folded quietly on his lap, before coming up again to punctuate a statement or wave off someone else’s idiocy. Then there was the second use of his hands: touch. Just like his eyes, his caress had a way that captivated people through the comfort and familiarity of a dear friend. Ten always seemed to have a need for it as well. Sometimes it was a quick squeeze on the thigh or a brief pat on the arm. Other times it was a more lingering touch—the kind that would leave Johnny feeling barren and parched long after it was gone. _But why?_

Then there was the super subtle that needed careful observation day in and day out to tease out the differences and piece together the puzzle of who Ten truly was beneath that impish smile of his. Ten had always been equally cheery with everyone no matter who it was. Sometimes there was even a sprinkle of mischief thrown in, but what Johnny was looking for was when that bright exterior dropped. That was who Ten trusted enough to be himself—trusted enough to reveal vulnerability and weakness that would otherwise stay hidden.

Johnny could never hide his own ever-tumultuous emotions and wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see, but Ten disguised his own, forging an almost undetectable mask to show everybody else. People only saw what Ten had wanted them to see. Anything less than that was preserved for only a chosen few who were lucky enough to crack that rigidly built wall of his. People like Johnny.

That façade of Ten’s would only ever drop when they were alone with no one around to witness his wounded ego. Only then would that bottled apprehension and disappointment tumble forth.

“Sometimes I’m just scared I’m not good enough,” he’d quietly sob, turned away from Johnny—a silent shamefulness of his own weakness. “It’s just so hard,” his pride and dignity collapsed under the pressure of poor weekly evaluations. Johnny would try his best to comfort Ten then. He’d try to ease those doubts, reassure Ten, try to assuage those fears—the same as he did for everybody else. Johnny had also fallen victim to those miserable evaluations after all. Everybody did, and each and every single time it happened it would take each one of them weeks to regain their shattered confidence. Even the ever proud Ten was defenseless against it. But compared to the others, Johnny felt a sense of urgency to allay those tears of Ten’s—a primal need. _But why?_

Once in a while, Ten would drop his guise in front of the others as well but it had to be an absolute shitshow of a week that was beyond Johnny’s ability to comfort him. Otherwise, Ten would doggedly deal with his own problems and fix them himself. There was rarely any dwelling when it came to Ten—no wallowing, no self-pity—unlike with Johnny. There was only do, and if nothing could be done then Ten simply let it go. If he needed to talk however, Johnny was almost always his preferred choice.

Although there was no real obvious difference in how Ten treated Johnny and the others, Johnny knew otherwise. Ten never lingered near them like he did with Johnny nor did he ever respond to the impulsions of others unless he felt like it. The problem was that Ten was almost always up for doing things. It took months for Johnny to work out the differences between himself and their friends.

Rarely did Ten ever agree to watching a movie with the others when he was exhausted, but he’d always accept Johnny’s invitation, even if he was nodding off and not paying attention to the flashing images. If they were eating out instead, Ten always patiently waited for Johnny to finish eating or sat loafing around while Johnny lingered behind chit chattering with the others. With everyone else, Ten was impatient and would wordlessly instruct them to hurry up with a drum of his fingers and an unhappy stare. Then there was the infinitesimal that Johnny only realized by happenstance rather than through his own research. Yuta had complained about Ten always leaving the last bite of food or picking up an extra snack for Johnny.

“But what about me??” Yuta had indignantly whined, happily taking some snack or another that Ten begrudgingly offered to placate him.

Johnny tucked that piece of information in the back of his mind and realized just how true it was. Ten was never considerate to anyone else. Sure, he was polite with everyone, but he never went through great strides and lengths to show the others that he cared for them. He only respected the usual expectations that people had. Ten came from a wealthy family after all; anything Ten wanted was obviously his to begin with from the moment he desired it. Anything Ten wanted, he’d take it without so much as sparing a thought for the others. Just Johnny. Clearly, Johnny was special, but that only disappointed him more than it pleased him. _But why?_

In retrospect, it was plainly obvious what was starting to happen. It did follow the pattern of Johnny’s past crushes after all: the same neurotic interest, the same inquisitive eye where he’d slowly pick apart behaviours, the same hidden motives as he befriended Ten and all the ones around him. If he had realized it then, maybe he could’ve stopped it in its tracks before it grew. If he had realized it then, maybe he could’ve kept his feelings in check before it spiraled out of control. If he had realized it then, maybe, just maybe, he could’ve avoided his one and only regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title namesake: [plt - hocus pocus ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0UbBJGDeQSiGhfdOWFa7WL) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ATLk13JBoI))
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	3. Nature Boy

Something had changed. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he could feel a deep, gnawing ache that hadn’t been there before. Where Johnny had once been content, he was now restless; once satisfied, now emaciated. Even the bitter grief he had gone through when Exo debuted wasn’t as bad as this. It was almost preferable, in fact. He had a sense of balance then. Stability. Cohesion. He had fortitude—a pillar of sorts that held him up despite the anguish, but it wasn’t there anymore. With every passing day, he grew agitated. Irritable. Unsettled. _But why?_

But why, but why, but why? It was the feeling more than the words that plagued his thoughts, disrupting him whenever the tendrils of sweet peace crept near. _But why?_ It was an inexpressible sensation—a formless idea, a crude notion rather than a tangible question that Johnny could put into syllables. _Just what is it?_

It exhausted his body—every movement felt like he was floundering underwater with his graceless limbs flopping around his hulking, lumbering torso.

It burdened his mind—thoughts were reluctant to come, taking their time as they ambled about all but refusing to come forth into actualization.

It consumed his soul—was there an escape?

The only thing Johnny knew was that all of it centered on Ten. He wanted something from Ten, but what? What was it he wanted?

Lately, Ten had been heading off to lessons before Johnny instead of waiting like he usually did. It was almost as if he were trying to avoid Johnny, but there was no reason to. _Maybe I’m just seeing things._ And maybe he was. Sometimes Johnny left without Ten for one reason or another as well. It wasn’t as if there was some kind of agreement either, so Johnny couldn’t fault Ten. Still, he enjoyed Ten’s company and preferred going together. Lessons did start at the same time for everyone, but people always went early to squeeze in an extra hour or two of practice or to have the rare moment of peace and quiet. Perhaps that’s why Ten had been off on his own lately—needing some alone time. It was a luxurious rarity when it came to their dorms and as such, people sought out that precious solitude.

What Johnny had thought would only last a week or two went on closer to a month. For the first week, he had left Ten alone figuring that Ten would come to him sooner or later and share whatever was on his mind. But there was a strange, unreadable look in those ever-sharp inky eyes. It was one that Johnny had never seen before—a mix of despair and hostility with just a hint of something more sweetly morose. He didn’t know how to interpret it. Other than that rare expression and Ten leaving him behind, nothing else had change. Ten still had the same energetic smile that would sometimes slip into a more dignified stare, the same devilish glint in his eyes when he thought of snide comment or a great joke, the same attention-seeking behavior where he’d find an excuse to butt into a conversation he wanted to be a part of. There was no cause for alarm as far as Johnny could tell.

By the middle of week two, Johnny had gotten antsy. Ten hadn’t once asked Johnny to go with him the entire time and either left by himself or went for lessons with some of the other guys. Johnny had tried to catch him right before he left, but Ten always seemed to slip just out of reach when Johnny was ready to go, even if Johnny had been prepared hours beforehand. Week three came and gone with no change. Somewhere along the way, it had finally occurred to Johnny that he could just _ask_ Ten to go together. It wasn’t as if he would reject Johnny, but by now Johnny had been so caught up in his own anxiety that he found it hard to confront Ten about it in first place—that is, until Ten had gone out to eat with the others without inviting him after their dance lesson had ended. Now _that_ gnawed away at him.

Ten knew Johnny had nothing better to do afterwards, so why hadn’t he asked Johnny to come?? Did he not want Johnny to go? Did he simply forget? Maybe that was it. But then Ten had done it again. And again—both the same as the first time: leaving with a few others right after class with Johnny standing right there. It wasn’t as if he didn’t see Johnny either. Ten acknowledged him with a smile and a wave before leaving each time. That was three times now—all without Johnny. He couldn’t take it anymore.

 _Where did you guys go?_ He interrogated Yuta and Hansol the moment they got back after the third incident. _How come you didn’t invite me? Why didn’t you just wait for me?_ _Did you do anything afterwards?_ He prattled one question after another, trying to fit it in as naturally as possible without looking too peculiar. He didn’t corner Ten for it—didn’t want to hear an “I forgot” or get a shrug as an answer. Something also told him that it’d be strange to ask Ten. Despite Johnny’s best efforts however, someone had picked up on his odd reaction: Jaehyun.

Johnny had always known that that sweet, dimpled exterior hid a more sentient person, but even he could be fooled by Jaehyun—especially with how quietly soothing Jaehyun’s presence was as he sat back and listened to the others talk. It was almost easy to forget that Jaehyun was there in the first place, however Jaehyun was always attentive to his surroundings.

 In the midst of his questioning, Johnny had locked eyes with Jaehyun at one point and noticed the flicker of bewilderment on Jaehyun’s face before it was smoothed away by a sweet smile that betrayed no hint of the confusion just moments before. That was when Johnny got a taste of his own monster in the making.

By now, SM Rookies had started rolling out and with it was a move to better accommodations. No longer were they simple trainees that could be found a dime a dozen. There was a serious intention in debuting them and SM Rookies was set up to train them even further in skills outside of just singing and dancing. No longer did Johnny have to share a room with 3 others, but instead he shared a room with Ten.

It was at this point where it should’ve been obvious to Johnny what he felt for Ten. The alarms were there again loud and clear, but Johnny remained foolishly—and admittedly just a tad willfully—unaware. Ten’s Korean had improved enough in the past several months to the point where he could finally hold conversations with the others instead of just Johnny and Mark. There was still a lot of gesturing, misunderstandings, and English involved, but eventually a message would get across after much effort. Ten looked happier too expanding his circle of friends, but Johnny wasn’t. He felt lonely over being left behind. _But why?_

With the new pre-debut training team came new opportunities for the boys. They had the chance to get used to being filmed and learn how to conduct themselves appropriately for the camera. They also learned how to entertain and appeal to their fans by recording silly things like the birthday surprises and the airport game. That stupid, stupid airport game.

It had been Doyoung’s idea—a blatant, cutesy thing meant to please their fans and make them more zealous than they already were. Ten and Taeyong had lost the initial rock-paper-scissors, so they were forced to play the game while the others followed them around as spectators. The two of them had to wear matching clothes and walk around the terminal while holding hands and acting like lovers. Johnny hated it. He especially hated how cheery and pleased Ten was the entire time finally getting all the spotlight and attention he wanted while Johnny fumed. _But why?_

It was almost as if Ten had been pleased to be with Taeyong—an inane thought for Johnny knew it was otherwise. Ten saw Taeyong as nothing more than friendly competition when it came to dance and competing for the camera—not someone who he’d reveal his innermost thoughts to. Taeyong was also far too principled with his own strict code on how to conduct himself—an attitude that naturally built a wall between he and Ten, preventing them from connecting on a deeper level.  Still, all of this only served to fuel Johnny’s own confused annoyance. _But why?_

This time, it was both Doyoung and Yuta who noticed his odd behavior. It was Yuta who picked up on his silence first. Back then, Yuta had the same restrained behavior as he did now—a result of culture and language barrier. However, nothing ever went unnoticed by Yuta’s watchful eyes. At one point during recording, Johnny had noticed Yuta staring at him inquisitively but unlike Jaehyun, he didn’t bother hiding it. Instead, he simply stared at Johnny without a single word letting Johnny know that he had noticed something strange about him and that was it, much to Johnny’s relief. Still, he felt ashamed. To be so obvious with his own feelings struck Johnny as unprofessional and further piled on to his growing heap of self-hatred.

Doyoung on the other hand was an entirely different story. As soon as he picked up on Johnny’s mood, he found an appropriate time to pull Johnny to the side and quietly ask if he was alright, staring at him with those wide eyes of concern. Johnny of course told him that yes, everything was fine and he was just a bit tired, but it was a weak excuse that Doyoung didn’t buy. Still, Doyoung was never one to push a matter if someone didn’t want to talk about it so he left Johnny alone—for the most part anyway. Doyoung’s care came through as being extra attentive to Johnny’s needs. Johnny almost hated Doyoung for it and wanted to blame him for coming up with this dumb game in the first place, but that was just plain silly so he held back his annoyance with a terse smile instead.

For days after the filming, Johnny had avoided Ten and Taeyong as much as possible without alerting them to the fact, but it wasn’t easy with Ten as his roommate. Ten picked up on his behavior almost instantly and a week later he cornered Johnny, demanding some answers. That day, Johnny had just walked back into their room seething after a particularly long dance lesson. The dance instructor had been a complete dick to him the entire three hours he had been there.

“Do it harder,” he instructed Johnny, singling him out of the eleven others that were there that day. “Harder. HARDER! More energy!” Johnny listened, but each repetition was unacceptable. Unsatisfactory. A _disappointment_. The placement of his foot was imprecise, the angle of his knee was all wrong, the amount of force he put into it wasn’t good enough. Nothing was good enough.

“You’ve been a trainee for this long and you STILL can’t dance!” he spat at Johnny. “Just look at Taeyong! Jaehyun! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Johnny growled, biting back his tongue, nails digging into his palms. On and on it went from one move to the next. And the next. And the next. Every single bit of effort was met with a swell of criticism.

By the end of the lesson, Johnny had had so much pent-up frustration that he had wildly hurled himself into dancing with reckless abandon, skirting self-injury and flirting with the idea of “accidentally” destroying a mirror in the studio or better yet, the instructor himself. It was only then that he had been satisfied enough to pass Johnny with a wave of his hand and a simple, “That looks alright.”

Johnny was livid. Alright? Just alright? After all that bullshit? _Just alright?_ So when Johnny returned to the dorms, he had expected to hop into the shower and stand under the scalding water until the pain beat the rage out of him, but Ten had other ideas. As soon as Johnny spotted Ten waiting in their room, he sighed and braced himself.

“Were you at dance practice?” Ten asked. A simple question, but there was an edge in his voice. The usual placid face that Ten showed Johnny had been replaced with something harder. Angrier.

Johnny turned his back and started digging through the drawers for some clothes. “Yeah. The instructor was a dick and I’m really sweaty so I’m going to shower,” he replied, yanking out whatever he found first. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with Ten right now. Just seeing him normally confused him enough, but after that filming? Was this his punishment?

“We have to talk, Johnny,” Ten ignored him.

“Fuck,” Johnny muttered to himself. “About what?” he turned to Ten hoping that the smile he painted on was convincing enough to placate whatever it was that Ten wanted. It wasn’t.

“You’ve been avoiding me lately,” Ten frowned, gazing down at Johnny with those sharp eyes of his. Johnny looked up at him and nearly laughed at his displeasure. Ten should be the one appeasing _him_.

Johnny kept his smile plastered onto his face, trying to swallow down the knot of fury. “Avoiding you? What makes you think that?”

Ten clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. “Don’t play stupid you dumbass. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve been avoiding me ever since we filmed at the airport.”

“You’re just seeing things,” Johnny straightened up, making a move for the door. Ten blocked his path and Johnny sighed. “Look, between you and that fuckface of an instructor, I _really_ don’t want to this right now. Move.”

“No.”

“Move before I fucking make you,” Johnny growled, lurching forward.

“No,” Ten jabbed a finger at him, “Fuck _you_. You’ve been avoiding me this entire fucking week and now you’re trying to run. No. Fuck _you_.”

“I said **move**.”

Ten glared back, arms folded across his chest as he obstinately refused to budge.

Johnny started chuckling as he threw his hands up in disbelief. “Okay! Fine! FINE! You win! Congratulations! What do you want from me, huh? A fucking prize? Why can’t you just fucking move and let me go shower?” If only Ten knew how it felt just standing here talking to him.

“You know what?” Ten hissed, stepping towards Johnny. “You’ve been such a dick to me this entire week and I’ve been _nothing_ but **pleasant**. Don’t you dare give me that attitude.”

“That’s because I don’t want to be _near_ you! Jesus Christ, Ten! Are you fucking stupid?” It hurt too much. Being in the same room with Ten hurt too much.

“That’s. What. I’m. **Talking**. **About** ,” Ten gritted out. They stood there glaring at one another with their chests heaving. Briefly, Johnny wondered how it’d feel like to punch that shitty face of his.

“Fine,” Johnny broke the silence with a wave of his hand. “ _What do you want?_ ”

Ten glowered at him. “I want you to tell me why you’re being such a fucking asshole.”

“I already told you. I don’t want to be near you.”

Ten sharply inhaled and clenched his fists, swallowing the surge of fury. “That’s not a fucking answer. I want to know _why_.”

Why didn’t Johnny want to be near Ten? There were so many reasons, but not a single one came to mind as he slogged through his thoughts. His brain felt like a mess and Ten was the reason. “You’re just overthinking things,” Johnny placed a hand on Ten’s shoulder only to have it slapped away.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Really? Overthinking things? _Overthinking things_?” Ten bitterly laughed. “Don’t fucking look down on me,” he hissed, yanking Johnny’s head down.

Johnny started chuckling then. Just where was Ten’s anger coming from? It was his fault—Ten’s fault—for doing this. Johnny didn’t even mean to avoid him this entire time—didn’t want to avoid Ten. But it happened.

“Oh, you think this is _funny,_ do you? The others would never laugh at me like this. _Taeyong_ would never laugh at me like this.”

Johnny flinched and slammed Ten against the wall. “Taeyong would never laugh at you?” he hissed, “Give me a break. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re so weak and useless-”

An explosion of pitch black and bright stars was all Johnny could see as a sharp pain burst forth from his cheek. Pins and needles shot up his face and all he could hear was the sound of his own blood thumping and rushing, drowning out all his thoughts. For a moment, Johnny thought he was going to pass out as the drumming pounded and throbbed. Suddenly, everything cleared and came bursting forth as he found himself clutching his jaw, staring at Ten.

“Did you just fucking punch me?” Johnny stared at him in awe through watery eyes as he cradled his spinning head. It hurt, but the pain hurt less than being near Ten.

“Who’s weak now, you fuck face?!” Ten snarled, raised fist rapidly turning an angry red. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Johnny was worried that Ten had broken a finger or two.

He gazed at Ten in admiration as he massaged his jaw, flexing it from side to side and grimacing at the grinding of bones. Never once had Ten gotten physical during their previous spats nor had Ten ever been this furious. His face was most certainly going to bruise and then he’d have some explaining to do and convincing excuses to make to their managers, but that was the least of his worries. He was tired now. Very tired. Of Ten. Of himself.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny sank down onto his bed, burying his face into a hand. Everything hurt. His muscles were protesting any more movement and his joints were starting to ache from the abuse earlier. His face hurt too of course, but all of that was easier to deal with compared to his true source of pain that stood in front of him—the source of his agony for the past couple of months.

Ten noiselessly watched Johnny for a long moment before finally stepping forward to kneel in front of Johnny’s crumpled form. “Why were you avoiding me, hyung?” he quietly asked, gently pulling Johnny’s hand away from his face. Johnny kept his head down, refusing to look at him. Couldn’t look at him. It hurt.

But as usual, Ten had other ideas. Carefully, he lifted Johnny’s head up taking care to not touch the side he had just bruised—suddenly considerate when he wasn’t just moments before. “Hyung?” he prompted, searching Johnny’s face. There was anguish etched onto Johnny’s face. A confusion.

Johnny dropped his gaze, but Ten refused to let him go. Johnny didn’t want to look at Ten, didn’t want to acknowledge the turmoil in those raven eyes of his—the strained wistfulness and some kind of despair that Johnny couldn’t understand _. Why is he looking at me like that?_ Looking at Johnny as if he were that was hurting Ten—not the other way around. Johnny wanted to soothe Ten’s worries away—to pull him into an embrace and make it all disappear, but he couldn’t. It hurt.

A soft touch on his bruised cheek made him jerk back in surprise. “I hit you pretty hard, didn’t I?” Ten murmured, his hand still hovering over Johnny’s face.

 “Yeah, you did,” Johnny sighed, gingerly touching his own face. “I deserved it though.”

“You did,” Ten softly agreed. They sat in silence gazing at one another. Johnny took in Ten’s quaint nose and those cat-like rose-colored lips before flicking his eyes back up to meet Ten’s watchful stare. That restless look was still there—the same one that Johnny would occasionally catch Ten staring at him with whenever he thought Johnny wasn’t looking. If their eyes met, Ten would smooth it away with a smile as he tried to hide it, but Johnny noticed. He always noticed. He wondered what it meant, but something seemed to reel him back each time. A warning of sorts.

“So, have you been avoiding me?” Ten murmured, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Johnny confessed, looking down at the floor.

“But why?” Ten searched his face.

There it was again. The question that had towered over Johnny, torturing him for the past few months. It cruelly sat there, its wicked presence stretched out between them with an ugly jagged grin and bottomless eyes. Johnny had no more of an answer to Ten’s simple question than he did to his own feelings of a question.

 _But why_? There were so many answers that came to mind, but each one of them disappeared the moment they were formed—or at least that’s what Johnny told himself. In truth, they never disappeared. They never went away. Johnny simply shut them out instead refusing to look at them. He didn’t want to know what they were. Didn’t want to see what he knew would be there.

“I don’t know,” Johnny finally admitted after a long moment, closing his eyes and leaning into Ten’s hand. How gentle it was. Warm. Safe. Happy. He wanted to stay there for as long as he could.

 _But why?_ Why did Ten’s touch leave him feeling nothing but a cozy, pure contentedness? Why did its absence leave him parched and yearning for more? What was so special about Ten’s caress that left a jolt of dizzying elation and hysteria that Johnny had grown to fear and long for?

 “I don’t know why I was avoiding you,” Johnny murmured. “Something about you and Taeyong just pissed me off, but I don’t get why.” He had wanted to be Taeyong that day and pretend he and Ten were lovers even though it was all just for a stupid, dumb, meaningless game. _But why?_

He wanted to be Jaehyun, Hansol, Doyoung—any of the other guys that Ten would smile at. It didn’t matter who it was—only that Ten was smiling at him and not anyone else. _But why?_

 He wanted Ten to look at him and only him. He wanted to be the first thing Ten would think of when he awoke and the last thing on his mind before he fell asleep. _But why?_

He wanted…

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title namesake: [aurora - nature boy](https://open.spotify.com/track/06VpK4CHELWBGR7QYdH9I2) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9w-bQaysbf0))
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	4. Where Angels Fear to Tread

_No. **No**. That’s not possible. I don’t like Ten—not in **that** way_. It wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be possible. _Me and Ten? No way. I don’t feel like that about him_. Then why did every single touch from Ten set his skin on fire? Why did Ten’s gaze make him dizzy and lightheaded? Why did Johnny’s own eyes betray him looking for Ten no matter where they were or who they were with? _Why?_

 _Nope, not possible,_ he’d decide. _I don’t have any interest in him._ He couldn’t possibly be in love with Ten, could he? Could he? He questioned it, turning the thought in his mind and inspecting it from all angles. Was it possible? No, it couldn’t be. They were just friends—right? Extremely close friends. Friends that would occasionally hold hands or lounge on top of one another, but wasn’t that normal in Korea? Where was the line? In the US, it was much easier to tell, but not here.

Here, the men were a lot more familiar with one another. Intimate at times. They were more open to emotional outbursts while the US expected nothing but stoic silence. It was something that Johnny had grown to appreciate. He had never been the unemotional type, but each time stress began to suffocate and drown him, Johnny felt weak as he broke down onto his knees and sobbed. It was indoctrinated into him after all. The worst was whenever his tears were captured on camera. Sometimes, he’d wonder if his friends back in Chicago would see it and laugh at him or if they’d see the freedom of it instead.

What did Ten feel about him then? About relationships? Johnny couldn’t ever recall hearing Ten mention anything during the exchanged escapades the guys would boast about late at night in their dorms. In fact, Ten didn’t say much at all—just simply listened with amusement. It was possible that Ten just didn’t feel like talking about it or maybe he didn’t have any experience. That was common enough among them, especially for some of the guys who became trainees early on. Perhaps Ten just had no interest.

 _Maybe I’m just thinking too much_. Now that was a more satisfactory answer. Besides, it wasn’t as if Johnny was the only one that Ten enjoyed being around. Ten would always flit from person to person, group to group, depending on how entertaining or dull a conversation was to him. If he were bored or something else caught his attention, he’d leave no matter who it was. He was a sensual person too—always laying an arm on someone else’s or draping himself on top of them instead, so it wasn’t as if his actions held any real significance to it.

Even if Johnny did like Ten—and he didn’t; Ten was only a friend after all—it wasn’t possible to date. Not only was that part of their contract, but it’d ruin his dream—their dreams. The very thing they were adamantly dedicating their teenage years trying to achieve. They were co-workers and dating would do more than simply ruin their careers. It’d blight the rest of the trainees as well—stain the company really. And what if they debuted? Then it’d splinter their group. Either way, he didn’t have any feelings for Ten. They were only friends. _Just friends_. _Just. Friends._

Still, something had changed.

\- - -

“Hyung, what are you doing? I’m bored!!”

“Hyung, are you hungry? Let’s go eat!”

“Hyung, where are you going?”

“Hyung, I want to come too!”  

“Hyung…”

The questions and demands from Ten came one after another, but Johnny didn’t mind, or he tried hard not to anyway. Ever since their fight, Ten had been more attentive to Johnny—no doubt feeling some remorse from punching him. For days after their fight, he had been glued to Johnny’s heels like a kicked puppy—as if Johnny were the one who had punched Ten, not the other way around. The moment Johnny awoke and got out of bed, Ten would jerk awake too and if Ten didn’t, he’d come all but flying into the living room in search of Johnny. If Johnny wasn’t there, he’d get a text from Ten demanding to know where he was instead.

Whenever Johnny went to eat, so did Ten. Whenever Johnny went for lessons, Ten tagged along as well. If Johnny went to shower, he’d find Ten waiting in their room for him. Although he usually greatly enjoyed Ten’s company, he felt stretched thin. This was just too much of Ten and Johnny’s patience was beginning to fray.

 _Do I really like him?_ Johnny would debate himself as he listened to Ten chatter away about something or hum to himself with his head buried in his sketchbook. But it couldn’t be possible. _We’re just friends_ , he would think while sitting on the floor, watching as Ten powered through a break for more practice. Sure, Ten was deadly handsome in a way that Johnny wasn’t, but that didn’t mean much when Taeyong was just as attractive as Ten. Johnny wasn’t even sure if those sharp, agile looks of theirs was even the kind he liked so he scrutinized the others instead, trying to see if there was anything outstanding about Ten’s face. But there was nothing—nothing that stood out from amongst the others, nothing that could give a satisfactory answer as to why Ten stirred his heart. So that left personality.

Johnny was at a loss there. _Personality??_ He would catch himself staring at Ten, trying to find the words to even begin describing him. Ten was playful—that much was obvious to everyone around him, but that didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of who Ten truly was. If anything, posh was more apt. The unshakable confidence and relentless ambition Ten had was a result of his upbringing more than an innate characteristic. Not to mention how much of a perfectionist Ten was.

That sense of uncomplaining dogged work ethic, the seemingly effortless results—it was simply another part of Ten. There were notebooks that Ten carried around scribbled full of grammar and vocabulary as he jolted down anything new he learned throughout the day. Ten would take his time reviewing his notes right before sleeping, methodically ensuring that he did indeed understand and remember everything he had learned. Whether it was dance, vocals, or some other skill he felt himself lacking in, Ten was always busy polishing himself. He wouldn’t sleep until he met his own expectations.

The only problem with Ten was that he wasn’t the most comforting person. The others would almost always prefer to come to Johnny or go to Doyoung, Taeil—literally anyone else _but_ Ten. It wasn’t as if he were dismissive of other people’s issues—he wasn’t an uncaring person. Far from it. However, he couldn’t offer people the soothing consolation that they sought out more than anything. Ten was more prone to suggesting solutions and fixing the problem immediately rather than dwelling and brooding, but that was the exact thing people didn’t want. They wanted the comfort of a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on as they aired out their frustrations before solving their problems themselves. But Johnny didn’t mind. Sometimes he needed someone to sweep aside and cut through the spiral of emotions and remind him that the answer to things was usually much simpler than he had thought.

 _But all of this doesn’t matter anyway_ , Johnny concluded once again. He and Ten were only friends after all. Nothing more, nothing less. Or so he told himself.

“You and Ten have been together a lot more than usual, huh?”

Johnny stirred from his reverie only to see Yuta staring at the him from across the room as he fiddled with a hat out of boredom. Johnny and Ten had arrived at dance class early intending to get some extra practice in for the day and they had been stretching on the floor when Hansol and Yuta had walked in.

“Huh?” Johnny blinked, before the words registered. “Oh yeah, I guess.” He grabbed his iced coffee with a yawn. _Still not awake_ , he sighed, taking a long sip from his cup as he glanced around. Ten and Hansol still weren’t back. They had mentioned wanting to see if there was an instructor around to ask a few questions, but that was ten minutes ago.

“You also have a bruise on your face.”

Johnny choked on his drink. Now _that_ woke him up. “W-what,” he coughed, feeling the cold drink going down the wrong tube. “What do you mean?” he sputtered out, gaping at Yuta. _Does he know?? How did he find out?_

“I said what I meant,” Yuta replied with a bored stare, spinning his hat in the air.

Johnny opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of a decent excuse that Yuta would fall for. The mask didn’t do a good job of covering his injury—Johnny knew that much—but he didn’t think it was _that_ obvious… or was it? Perhaps he could claim that he fell down the stairs. Wasn’t that what people usually say? That they fell down the stairs? Stairs that bruised Johnny’s face. Stairs that bruised Johnny’s face and only his face and nowhere else. _What a terrible idea_ , Johnny scrapped it.

Getting into a fist fight would be way more believable, but then it’d come with a bunch of other questions that Johnny would have to answer. Not to mention if word got out and someone asked one of the many managers about it—then Johnny would _really_ have some explaining to do to them. In fact, they barely believed his story about getting hit in the face during dance practice even though Johnny had thought it was a brilliant idea. Accidents happened often enough when there was a room full of caffeinated rowdy boys, all of them stomping to the beat and hurling their arms around as they danced. Surely it wasn’t _that_ far farfetched a story, was it? But the moment he started telling any manager who had found out, the disapproving frown and the folded arms told him otherwise. But maybe Yuta would believe it.

“I- I got hit in the face,” Johnny swallowed.

Yuta stopped playing with his hat, head snapping up with a wicked grin and interest lighting up in those normally stony eyes of his. _Goddamnit_ , Johnny sighed to himself, already feeling the incredulity that would soon follow. Yuta could always smell fun when it dangled right in front of him and like a shark and blood, Yuta dove straight at it. “Oh?”

“During dance practice,” Johnny immediately replied, knowing exactly what he was hoping for. “We were dancing and then-“

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” Yuta cut him off, the glimmer snuffed out.

“But I’m... not...,” _lying_ Johnny completed the sentence in his mind, words drying up in his mouth as Yuta looked up with a withering glare. Before he could question him how he found out, Ten and Hansol burst back into the room and Yuta got up as if the conversation never happened in the first place.

After that, Johnny didn’t have a chance to press Yuta for more details—or more accurately, he was too cowardly to do so. He didn’t want to know how exactly nor how easily Yuta had been able to put two and two together. Admittedly it wasn’t all that difficult if someone had simply paid attention, but something told Johnny that he didn’t want to know just how much Yuta observed on a daily basis. He didn’t want to know if Yuta had seen something else, something more from Johnny.

But was there really anything to fear? He and Ten were just good friends. Why would there be anything to be terrified of? They were fantastic pals—buddies that got on swimmingly well. Friends who had come together in the first place due to a common dream, a common language, common interests. That was all. Just friends, plain and simple. That was it.

 _Just friends_. Yes. _Just friends_.

“Did you tell Yuta we got into a fight?” Johnny quizzed Ten the moment the door shut behind them, hiding them in the safety of their room away from prying ears and eyes.

“What??” Ten looked up, brows furrowed in confusion. “No. Why?? Why would I even do that?”

“Oh,” Johnny sagged down onto the floor. “Yuta somehow figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Ten frowned. “Oh. Ugh,” Ten wrinkled his nose as he clicked his tongue, sinking down onto his bed. “Your bruise isn’t even _that_ bad anymore too!”

Johnny took his mask off and turned to face Ten. “Not as bad as the first day I mean,” Ten quickly retracted his statement. With a single hop, he pushed himself up off the bed and strode towards Johnny for a closer look. “I guess it’s still pretty bad,” he admitted, giving an apologetic half smile.

The swelling had finally begun to go down, but there was still a clear blotchy black and blue baseball sized bruise on his face. Makeup had barely covered it up, so he put his efforts into futilely covering the edges that peeked outside of the mask instead. _Maybe that’s what Yuta saw?_ But if it was, why did he think it was Ten’s fault? How could he have possibly pinpointed the perpetrator?

“Isn’t there anything you can do to make it heal faster?” Ten reached out to touch it. Johnny flinched at the contact. “I’m sorry,” Ten dropped his hand, staring at Johnny concerned.

“No,” Johnny shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s just… It’s fine. You can touch it,” his eyes fluttered shut as Ten reached up again. It was a lie that his face didn’t hurt, but that wasn’t the reason why Johnny had flinched. It was the unexpected jolt of electricity down his spine that had caused him to reel back. “Your cold hand feels good,” Johnny murmured, fighting the shudder coursing through him. _Just friends_.

“Really?” Ten asked, fanning his fingers out as he stared intently at Johnny. That look was in Ten’s eyes again—quiet agony with a hint of remorse. Shame, perhaps. Guilt from injuring Johnny. Yes, that was it. There wasn’t anything more. There couldn’t be anything more. “Should I get you an ice pack?”

Johnny shook his head. “No. Your hand is good enough.” The longer Johnny stayed, the more incessant the sirens were—telling him to get away, to leave the room, to escape before he made a mistake. _Just friends, just friends, just friends. We’re only just friends_.

“I hit you pretty hard, huh?” Ten murmured, his fingers gently brushing across Johnny’s face and lip. Johnny balled his hands into fists, trying hard not to quiver from the electricity thrumming up inside of him. Pictures of grabbing that slender hand and kissing the honeyed velvety skin. Up that lanky arm and up that slender neck. Across that perfect jaw and then those syrupy, plush rosebud lips against his own.

“Sorry, Johnny,” Ten pulled his hand away. _Just friends_.

After Yuta’s discovery, Ten had stopped clinging onto Johnny, but Johnny could still feel Yuta’s eyes on them. Whenever he glanced up while chatting with Ten, there was Yuta quietly watching them. Coming back from dance practice together? Yuta again, and if Yuta wasn’t staring from the distance, he was tagging along as he pretended to blend in with the crowd. At first, Johnny had been convinced he was simply paranoid but one long look at Yuta told him otherwise. He didn’t even bother hiding what he was doing the moment Johnny had noticed—didn’t even bother acknowledging that Johnny had found out. All he did was silently watch.

It was only after Yuta had finally realized that nothing amusing was going to happen any time soon that he reluctantly lost interest, disappointed at the lack of entertainment. Johnny was finally free from both Ten and Yuta, but the sudden freedom stripped him naked and left him vulnerable. What was he to do now without anything to distract him? Without anything to pull him from the mania that was starting to bubble up deep within? _Help_.

Ten, Ten, Ten. That was the only thing on his mind, the only thing he could hear, the only name on his lips, the only person he could see. Ten. Even his dreams had begun to corrode and warp as Ten gradually made his appearances.

What had started out as innocent dreams of he and Ten doing mundane everyday activities rapidly turned into drenched sheets and a throbbing cock that Johnny put to rest while half asleep with pictures of naked skin, slick flesh, wanton moans playing out in his mind. Then he’d awake hours later, mortified at the drying sticky mess in his pants as Ten peacefully slept in his own bed across from Johnny’s.

“Just what am I doing?” Johnny chastised himself, hands and toes still tingling as the scalding water beat down upon his back. Just what was he doing? It had been the third—no, fourth—time in the past two weeks. Maybe more. He couldn’t remember—didn’t want to remember. The guilt was too much. Weren’t they just friends? _Help_.

Ever since that day, that brush across his lip stayed fresh in his mind. It had been just the slightest taste of Ten, but that was enough to send him into a frenzy. That feather-like graze on his lip, those turbulent inky eyes locked with his own. That soothing coolness of Ten’s hand, that heady scent of Ten’s spicy cologne mixed with musky sweat. It was too much. Each whiff, each caress, each taste—it was too much. All the shame and guilt was too much. All of it—too much. So Johnny ran.

He ran and ran and ran, fleeing from the monster that had been chasing him the entire time. Johnny knew what it was he felt—understood not only what it meant, but the consequences of it as well. He had refused to acknowledge the beast, blindfolding himself and clasping his hands over both ears. He didn’t want to see, he didn’t want to hear. It was an all too easy feat when it horrified him.

The creature had always stood there leering at Johnny just over his shoulders with its coal colored eyes and razor-sharp teeth, waiting for the chance to sink its jaw into Johnny’s flesh at the slightest hint of weakness. It had lingered behind the bars safety chained up as it rattled its cage, hungrily licking its chomps and impatiently snapping its teeth. But the lock had broke.

The fiend was free now and it was starving—starving for Johnny. _Help me_.

Unsteadily, it lurched onto its feet, bumbling forth and spreading its filthy rot as it made its way towards Johnny, every step sowing destruction and poisoning everything in its noxious wake. Each step brought it closer and closer to him and Johnny wasn’t fast enough. The nearer it got, the louder the sirens screeched as Johnny fled from it, ducking behind corners and hiding in the shadows wherever he could.

 _Run!_ They urged him forward. But which way should he go? All there was were spiny thorns before him and an unlit path, but Johnny couldn’t go back. It was coming and he had to go.

 _Flee!_ Which way? Which way? He was trapped in the labyrinth of his own making—the thorns and overgrowth fertilized by his own hand. But the fiend had caught sight of him and was steadily stumbling towards him. He couldn’t afford to linger.

 _It’s getting closer!_ The ground rumbled and groaned beneath its weight. The air, hot and heavy, stale with the stench of decay. The only bit of light that was left had disappeared into the beast, swallowed whole and eradicated. It was all Johnny could do to go on, but where was the way forward?

 _Hurry!_ But he was tired of running—so very tired. His muscles were beat and his skin was torn and raw. There was nothing to see but his own unshod feet and the shadows dancing around him as he felt his way forward. Nothing to hear but the panting of his desperate breaths and perverse giggles melding into mournful moans. His skin grew flush and sticky as the monster grew near—its breath cradling Johnny in a vile embrace. But there—the ground. It was cleared with a thick bed of downy grass. A place to rest. There was even light, and Johnny was tired. Couldn’t he just take a break? Sit for a while maybe. Perhaps even a nap?

 _No!_ When will it end? When will it end? The ground here was soft, and he was so, so tired. Of Ten. Of himself.

 _Escape before it comes!_ The beast couldn’t be _that_ bad, could it? Besides, it was cozy here. Warm. Safe. Happy. Exactly how Ten made him feel. He wanted more of it—more of Ten. Wanted more than just his touch, wanted more than an embrace. More than just a taste. He wanted Ten.

 ** _Help me_**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title namesake: [disclosure - where angels fear to tread](https://open.spotify.com/track/4vgXDV9qcqnwMQkdyGLSpL) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4CCfYi1u8Y4))
> 
> other influencing songs:  
> [oblyx - bluebells](https://open.spotify.com/track/1m0Rp367jlIYnLS4Kz3pq9) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IrRGVouJ_BU)) this song i listened to over and over and _over_ again when i was writing the part about the monster. as for that strange bit of my story, i thought it'd be fun to personify johnny's own fears and anxieties chasing him down and all.
> 
> [woodju - melancholy](https://open.spotify.com/track/5iswzQUF5dsNT5VJ6mW0BY) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WC75TJmKhVE))
> 
> [gazelle twin - the dream ends](https://open.spotify.com/track/3CNrRyhlwx7yxsU20HnMNH) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNrWQln8CiM))
> 
>    
> \--  
> come say hi!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)


	5. Descent

Those lust-filled dreams—they were every night now. Thoughts of Ten—they consumed his mind. Everything—day and night, from sunset to sunrise, dawn until dusk—all of it was full of nothing but Ten.

_I’m going crazy._

An unexpected touch from him would send Johnny flying light and airy as he walked amongst clouds, spinning and tumbling, chest swelling with an inexplicable contentment he had never felt before. But then the next caress would leave him high and dry, collapsed upon his knees, begging and beseeching, pleading and praying for more—just a little more please, just another touch—another touch. He’d do anything for just another touch. But no. No, no, **no**. They were friends. **Friends.** Just friends. Yes, just friends, right? Yes, that’s correct. Friends, **just friends**. But-

                                               _I’m going crazy._

Hands, lips, touch, taste—Johnny wanted it all. Needed it all. That gaze, that warmth. Those tarry pools, that smug grin. Mind, body, soul, heart. He had to have it all—all of Ten. **All of him**. Couldn’t Johnny have him? But why not? Why couldn’t he have just this one thing? He had already been denied one desire once upon a time, so wasn’t it only fair to give him Ten in exchange for his stolen spot in Exo? No?? But there was nothing else that could satiate this craving, this hunger. Nothing but Ten. Only Ten. Why couldn’t he just have Ten? What could be so wrong with it?

_I’m going crazy._

But what if Ten didn’t want him? Then what? Was he to die of thirst? Was he to be left out in the desert sun, skin burnt to a crisp, tongue turning to sand in his mouth, eyes shriveling in their sockets? But then again, that was preferable to the utter desolation and despair that awaited him if Ten left, but surely he wouldn’t do that to Johnny, would he? Johnny was terrified of being alone once more. Of being left behind. Of being unwanted. But Ten understood that, didn’t he?  He wouldn’t leave Johnny all by himself, would he?

_I’m going crazy._

Help, he needed help. The monster inside was winning, but who could save Johnny? Who but Ten could cure this mania? This insanity? Denying it was exhausting. Fighting it was exhausting. Trying to fend himself from these feelings was exhausting. Why did he have to do it all alone? Why did the people around him always ignore his distress—his misery? Why was Ten just standing there and watching as Johnny drowned? Why wasn’t he coming to help? If Ten wouldn’t come to his rescue, then who would? Maybe it was easier to give in. Maybe it was easier to let go. Maybe-

I’m. _Going. **Crazy**_ **.**

\- - -

Johnny was in love with Ten. That much was obvious to him now, but he didn’t know what to do with the discovery of this newfound information—not that it mattered anyway. Preparations for SM Rookies were under way so there was no time to think. There was too much to do—too much to learn, too much to practice, too much to perfect, and not enough time to eat nor sleep, let alone let his mind contemplate his revelation.

The boys would all get up early in the morning at the crack of dawn and get ready for the day grabbing whatever they could find to eat and any caffeine to fuel them before heading off for their individual lessons. They’d be there for a few hours before regrouping for a massive meeting, some lunch, and then group practice for the next several hours that was only broken up by dinner until they were home for the day again, exhaustion weighing heavily on both their minds and bodies. They would collapse into bed then, some of them choosing to skip both brushing their teeth and their shower in favor of trying to nab just a couple more minutes of sleep.

Ten had hovered near Johnny the entire month, only occasionally flitting away for something more entertaining before coming back to Johnny and telling him all about what had just happened. Each time Ten was near, Johnny could feel the fangs of the monster sinking its teeth onto his flesh, but it didn’t hurt. He had long since grown numb to the constant pain and despair. There was never any reprieve from these feelings—no break, no respite, so naturally Johnny grew used to it instead.

The sparks of electricity that Ten’s touch left were still there as well, but it too was easy to ignore. Johnny was simply too busy and too exhausted to care anymore. The internal war that had been waging between his heart and mind had come to a standstill, calling truce for the sake of Johnny’s beaten body and forming a temporary alliance instead as it fended him off from the flu that had broken out.

The flu had quickly spread amongst the rookies sparring no one—not their managers, not their staff. Johnny had only barely scrapped by without having so much as a sniffle, but now his limbs were heavier than usual and the fatigue he felt was worse than the week before.

“Hyung?” a voice floated out from the darkness, calling for Johnny. It was Ten. They were lying in their beds settling in for the night, trying to calm their nerves down before their very first performance the next day.

“Hmm?” Johnny sleepily answered. He was going through the entire performance from beginning to end, trying to commit what he had to do to memory: the times he had to get changed, his lines, the choreography, which part of the stage to enter and exit, what time to leave the stage, and more. When Ten didn’t answer, Johnny turned to face him. “What is it?”

“Let’s watch a movie,” Ten replied, voice void of any weariness that Johnny felt.

“What??” Johnny sat up and picked up his phone, checking the time. “Isn’t it kind of late for a movie?” he frowned. It was only just past 10 o’clock, but they had to be up early the next day. There was makeup and hair to do, more meetings to sit through, and a final run through of the concert before they hit the stage for the real show.

Silence.

“Ten??” Johnny propped himself up, squinting at his shadowed heap.

“I can’t _sleep_ ,” Ten whined, shifting around. “I’m _bored._ ”

Johnny sighed. “It’s late, Ten. We can watch a movie tomorrow, okay?” More silence. Johnny sighed again.

“ _Ten_.” Crickets.

“Fine. What do you want to watch?” he caved in, sitting up in bed, squinting as he turned on the lamp beside him.

Ten leapt out of his bed and crawled into Johnny’s, grinning victoriously. “I don’t know,” he bounced in bed, humming. He smelt of woody vanilla with a hint of soft rose and sweet mango. _New shampoo?_ Johnny briefly wondered.

With yet another heavy sigh, Johnny tiredly rubbed his blinded eyes as he turned off the lamp. “If you aren’t going to choose a movie, go to back to bed.” But Ten was unwilling to move, obstinately laying down beside Johnny instead.

“ _Ten_.” Johnny was exasperated. The longer the day had gone by, the more paranoid he grew about getting sick. His throat was scratchy and he thought his sinuses were starting to clog up. By the time evening had rolled around, his nose had started leaking and that scratchy feeling had grown into fits of coughing. Even his head felt heavy now that he thought about it.

No amount of vitamins or handwashing could save him from the abuse his body had taken from the combination of sleeplessness, overexertion, and lack of nutrition. All he wanted to do was sleep and he needed it _now_. There was no way he was going up on stage like this for their very first performance tomorrow, but he was stuck putting up with Ten’s bullshit instead.

“I think I’m getting sick you know,” Johnny tried. Not a single peep.

Fed up, Johnny laid down beside him in the narrow bed and pulled the blanket over them, squeezing against the wall to give Ten more room. He didn’t want Ten rolling off the bed even if he was being annoying and possibly deserving of it. Ten tugged Johnny over and snuggled in close. “Now we both have enough room,” he murmured into Johnny’s ear, cradling his head against Johnny’s chest.

Johnny froze, heart hammering. Suddenly the monster was there in his face, giggling hysterically. _What just happened_? he panicked, franticly trying to will his pounding heart to calm down. But Ten didn’t stir. It didn’t even seem like he heard Johnny’s beating chest. “Ten?” he whispered. Silence.

 _Why is this happening to me?_ Johnny stared down at Ten. _Why today of all days?_ They had an important day tomorrow and Johnny couldn’t afford the loss of sleep nor the distraction. After a moment or two, Johnny worked up the courage to nudge at Ten only to get a sleepy grunt in reply. “Ten, you have your own bed.”

“I’m cold,” Ten snuggled in closer. That had been the only reply before Johnny heard the deep, steady breaths of sleep.

For the next hour, Johnny laid awake.

 _I should just get up and sleep in Ten’s bed_. But Ten looked so comfortable. Plus he had a slender arm wrapped around Johnny’s waist and Ten’s legs were tangled with his own. Trying to extract himself from Ten would probably wake him up, right? Not to mention that it would be rude. He smelled exquisite too and his silky hair was much softer than normal. That was most definitely a new shampoo.

 _I could just wake him_. But wouldn’t that be mean? They had rarely gotten more than 6 hours of sleep in the past month, so it seemed cruel to disturb him especially when he slept so soundly and peacefully. Ten was also cuddlier than any of Johnny’s own plushies that he’d usually snuggle up with in bed. The others sometimes teased Johnny for it, but he enjoyed having something to hold onto. It made him feel safe and protected and having Ten beside him was an even more intense version. And he was warm too. Johnny could feel Ten’s soft breaths tickling the nape of his neck and the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. If he focused, Johnny thought he could even feel Ten’s heart beating. A simple stuffed animal could never replicate this.

 _What if someone walks in tomorrow morning?_ They looked suspicious and Johnny doubted he could talk himself out of this one—especially with the dubious stares on some of the managers’ faces still burnt into his memory. The worst were the ones who downright stared at Johnny with such thorough disapproval at his weak attempt to lie about his face that even now Johnny still avoided them the moment he spotted them. Finding Johnny like this would just be another strike against him in their books, but one look at Ten in his arms and Johnny felt his cares slip away. For too long did he deny himself what he desired.

 _Well, the door is locked anyway, right?_ They usually locked it for privacy’s sake as did many of the others—something they all had the displeasure of learning to do over the years. Most of the guys were polite enough to knock first before walking in, but once in a while there was an inspiration of mischief and people would burst forth in the room, sometimes with water guns. The other times people simply forgot to knock, plain and simple. So, locked it was.

On and on his mind tumbled forth as Johnny willed his racing heart and troubled head to calm down as he raced from his true horrors. The nightmares were close on his heels stalking him down every corner, every twist, every path that Johnny had taken. Eventually, Johnny had succeeded in his escape and benevolent sleep came to his aide, slowly pulling him into a merciful embrace.

“Hyung?” Johnny heard Ten softly murmur as he stirred beside Johnny.

“Mm?” Johnny managed to groan out. Sleep was coming for him and he could barely respond now. His lids were growing heavier and heavier, sensation from his limbs slipping away.

“Johnny? Are you asleep?”

He didn’t reply—couldn’t reply. Sweet sleep had found his mind next and cradled it close, stroking and soothing any thoughts that bubbled up. But there—what was that? Something velvety soft, syrupy sweet against his lips.

“I love you, Johnny.”

That was the last thing he heard before sleep overtook him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)


	6. Gibberish

The Rookie shows ended just as quickly as it had come and with it were the whispered rumors of an official debut in the works. Johnny had tried to choke down that bitter fruit—that tentative seed of optimism that had started blossoming, but unfortunately for him the plant wasn’t a marvelous flower but a hideous weed instead and like all weeds, the plant was stubborn.

He had tried to stomp it down, starve it from growing, exterminate it from existence, but it was obstinate. It sat firmly rooted into his heart—an insidious little thing that poisoned his meager hopes with tentative promises all the while feeding off of his timid dreams.

 _Maybe_ \- he enamored himself with eager images of himself on stage, dancing and singing for all to see—flashing lights flickering around him, ardent fans screeching his name. “JOHNNY!” they shrieked the moment they spotted him, falling over themselves as they pushed past one another—competing for a chance of an autograph, perhaps even a photograph.

 _Maybe_ \- Ten, Taeyong, Jaehyun—all his friends were right there beside him, their voices harmonizing as one, movements in perfect synchronization as they moved to the beat. There’d be cameras too—photographers and journalists busily snapping away yelling and waving a hand, vying for their attention and trying to capture the best picture of them.

 _Maybe_ \- his parents would have front row seats in a packed stadium—so too would his old friends in Chicago. It’d be a feat that only Johnny could accomplish—getting them seats like that. They’d finally see the results of all his years of effort, his sacrifices. Perhaps even some of Exo would come see their show as well, peppering Johnny with congratulations, you’ve worked hard, you deserved it, I’m so happy for you!

Maybe, just maybe. Was it finally Johnny’s turn?

It wasn’t.

\- - -

“There’ll be a spot for you in a different subunit,” they had assured him then. Lies.

“NCT U isn’t necessarily a permanent unit,” they told him. _Lies_.

“We’re also considering several different subunits. There’s a chance that you’ll be a part of that.” **_Lies_** _._

Lies, lies, lies. They were all lies. **_Lies_**. All his time, all his effort, all his work, all his **_sacrifices_**. They were all for **_nothing_**.

 _They didn’t pick me again_. But why? Was he not good enough? He had tried so hard pouring all his effort into every single thing he did. Dancing, singing, dieting—it was a given for every single one of the trainees, but how many of the boys did more than that? How many of them cultivated themselves outside of what was expected? Fashion, skincare, hair—more basic expectations, but Johnny went beyond simple familiarity. He poured over books, perused the internet, picked the brains of the staff for more information—more knowledge, more reasons. Johnny didn’t just want to know one skin cream suited him better than the other, he wanted to know _why_. He needed the explanations, the logic, the reasoning before he was satisfied.

Self-improvement, learning to communicate with others—Johnny studied them as well. What could he do to be a better person—a better Johnny? How could he learn to talk to others so that they’d like him more? Any subject that was remotely useful for becoming an idol, Johnny had already spent months researching and perfecting. He needed that extra boost, the extra hunger—something to prove that he still had worth, that he could be debuted. But was that still not enough for them? Did he have to try harder? But how much harder? _It’s been eight years. **Eight fucking years**. Why not me???_

 _My friends are leaving me behind again_. First Sehun and Suho, now Ten, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Mark, and Doyoung—perhaps even more than that if the supposed plans of two other subunits really were true. How could his friends betray Johnny like this? Was he unlikeable? He had tried so hard to be as pleasant as possible—to be cheery, kind, always the helping hand—but it had gotten difficult the longer it went on. He didn’t want to be always friendly, always tolerant, always reliable—Johnny wanted to whine and complain, glare at people when he didn’t feel like talking, sulk off in a corner when he was upset, but he couldn’t. If he did any of those things, surely his friends would grow to dislike him and abandon him once more. _But they still left me anyway_.

Maybe there was just something fundamentally wrong with Johnny—something so broken that it couldn’t be fixed. Something that he couldn’t see but everybody else did. All the other trainees—all his friends—they never suffered the same way that Johnny did. Their struggles, their tears, their frustrations and disappointments—all temporary. Every single one of them always bounced back up ready to put in even more effort than they did before, but for Johnny all that toil weighed down upon his shoulders as it held him down and dragged him back further and further. All that feigned positivity, all that dying ambition, all that waning passion. It just wasn’t in Johnny anymore. Maybe that’s why they didn’t choose him. Maybe that’s why his friends were leaving him behind.

 _My parents will be disappointed._ He couldn’t go back to Chicago empty handed. What would his parents think? For years they had sacrificed themselves for the sake of Johnny’s dream as they sent him off every summer and awaited his return every fall, all the while counting down the precious years before their beloved son would leave them. Now, Johnny barely even got to see them—once every year at the most, usually closer to two. Phone calls were few and far between as well. His parents were on the opposite side of the world and Johnny’s schedule kept him busy all day long, but he couldn’t go back to Chicago. Not like this. He had to show them something.

 _Ten is leaving me_.

For the next few days, Johnny was trapped in a haze. He did not eat—the satisfaction that used to come from all the varied dishes; all the spices, scents, tastes—they no longer brought him any joy. Each dish was a bland tasteless nothing in his mouth—each chew, each swallow—too much effort for him, so he did not eat.

He did not sleep. What had once been his merciful savior now stood mockingly as it watched Johnny drown. It flitted around the edges—teasing and taunting, loving and caring—but it never came to him. The moment his eyelids drooped, sleep would skitter far away hiding in the shadows of moonlight until the sun rose, forcing him out of bed and into the world, demanding that he put on a smile as he counted down the hours to yet another restless night, so he did not sleep.

He did not speak. There were no words to say—no words to hear. No matter how many times his friends had come to try and cheer him up, their words were mute. No matter how much their mouths moved, no matter how much they tried to reassure him with friendly embraces, thought out text messages, little caring gifts—all they had to say fell deaf on Johnny’s ears. There was nothing to hear, nothing to say, so he did not speak.

He did not move. Crawling out of bed had taken enough energy out of him. So too did getting changed. Then there was brushing his teeth, washing his face, getting into the van, going to lessons. All of it took too much energy, so he stopped. It was just one day at first. His managers had easily ignored it, assuming that Johnny had just been feeling unwell. Then it was two days, then three. It took too much—getting out of bed took too much, so he did not move.

The three days turned into a week and the week into another week and suddenly all his friends and managers were constantly in and out, trying to get him to do anything—eat, sleep, speak, move, but he couldn’t do any of it. He laid uneating, unsleeping, unspeaking, unmoving—locked in state of catatonia, his body calcified into solid stone—only a statue of what he once was. All there was was he and the monster—the bleak nothingness, the jeering hatred, the mournful misery.

-

The monster was back again—a massive, burdensome entity that stalked closely at Johnny’s heels wherever he went—an ever-present reminder of his own uselessness, his own inadequacy. It licked at its chomps, sank its claws into the dirt, stared at Johnny with crazed alert. It was waiting for him—waiting for Johnny to trip, waiting for him to fall, waiting for his misery to grow.

It loomed over Johnny laughing a rank, soundless snicker. Each time it cackled, Johnny could see the bottomless abyss hidden within, waiting for him to dive in. Its normally shadowy eyes glimmered crimson with mirth as it giggled behind him, head lolling, grin splitting its face as Johnny stumbled through the darkened forest, trying to escape from the fiend.

-

From somewhere deep within the cloudy haze, Johnny could see Ten fretting over him day and night at every single hour of the day. At the sound of his alarm, Ten would be rolling out of bed, taking a peek at Johnny and ensuring he was still there. “Good morning,” Ten greeted him, hopeful for some sort of reply, but there was never any. Johnny had wanted to say something, had tried to get the words out, but they refused to come.

Ten would be back again after lessons with a small treat—always one of Johnny’s favorites: some ice-cold coffee, a slice of cake, a small package of cookies—but the food sat untouched in a growing pile and the coffee sat undisturbed in a pool of condensation. Johnny had wanted to sit up and take a sip of that refreshingly bitter drink, had wanted to follow it with the cloyingly sweet soft sponge, had wanted to thank Ten for his considerate attention, but Johnny was strapped and glued down to the bed unable to lift even a finger.

It was only when night arrived that the small bud of optimism that Ten started the day with started to cave as he stood by Johnny’s bedside, trying to find the perfect words—the magical spell to break him out of his stupor. Then the tears would come as Ten huddled up in bed trying to muffle his sobs. “It’s not your fault,” Johnny wanted to say. “I don’t blame you.” Johnny wanted to get up and absolve Ten from his guilt, wanted to embrace him and tell him that everything will be alright, wanted to thank Ten for all the things he had done for Johnny—or at least that’s what he told himself.

In truth, Johnny hated Ten—hated that Ten had snatched the spotlight from him—Johnny’s rightful place after all these years dedicated to training. But more than that, Johnny resented that Ten was leaving him behind. How could he do this to Johnny? How could Ten just leave him behind after seeing all the suffering and pain that Johnny had gone through after Exo left? How dare he leave Johnny as well—leave him all by his lonesome self once more to suffer, to choke, to drown. What was he supposed to do without Ten?

But the hostility would give way to shame as willy voice of reason won. It wasn’t Ten’s fault that the company made the decision they did—Ten had no choice, no say in it. _But couldn’t Ten just reject the offer?_ No, he was being selfish—Johnny was being childishly selfish. They both shared the same dream and Ten had desired it just as badly, had poured in just as much effort, had sacrificed just as much. Ten was just as deserving as anybody else and he had simply gotten lucky.

 _Why am I like this?_ the self-loathing would start. All Johnny wanted was to be happy; to achieve his greatest desire—the thing he’d been working at for _years_ —but he had been denied not once but twice now. Why?? The first time he could understand but the second? Was this his punishment? What did he even do to deserve this?

On and on the cycle would go from bitter resentment to guilty anguish. It clung to his heart weighing it down and trapping him onto his bed, so Johnny did not eat, did not sleep, did not speak, did not move.

-

Johnny’s feet lagged behind him as he forced himself through the thorny path as the monster prowled behind, but no longer did Johnny bother to escape its presence. The unceasing exhaustion had finally worn him down to a crawl as he stepped forth, tiredly sinking down at a small clearing. His stomach gnawed at itself with hunger, the scratches on his legs were crusted with blood, his spirit broken down from all his previous panic.

“Why are you following me?” Johnny looked up at the beast. The all-seeing orb snapped shut in acknowledgment of his words but made no other reply as it gazed down upon him. It had followed Johnny without fail for far longer than he could remember. Every time he had glanced back, the creature was there looming just behind, steadily following Johnny no matter how fast or slow he had been. It followed him through the landscapes of his mind—the only unchanging constant as the world around him had gradually collapsed into ruins. He had resented the beast at first—resented its persistence, its perseverance, but one by one his friends had abandoned him leaving Johnny in a world all by himself. The only thing left was just he and the monster.

-

Slowly, slowly, the petrifying stupor began to release its grasp one day at a time. At first, it was brief bits of eye contact every now and then—perhaps a bite or two of food before Johnny pushed the bowl aside for favor of laying down once more. He was just as sleepless as he had been for the past few weeks, but then his eyelids would droop for a minute or two before flinging wide open. Then it’d be five minutes. Thirty. Suddenly Johnny was having short bursts of sleep and with it came bits of reprieve—a panacea of sorts that cured what ailed him.

“Hyung, are you hungry? I brought you some food.” Johnny glanced over to see Ten with a steaming bowl in hand. “It’s jjigae. Jaehyun just made it,” Ten held it out to him.

“No,” Johnny stared back up at the ceiling. The pungent acrid scent mixed with savory meat and a hint of tang would normally have been enough to entice Johnny into the kitchen, but now it was simply uninteresting and unappetizing.

Ten sat down at the side of his bed instead, refusing to give up just yet. “You haven’t eaten anything in the past two days,” he pointed out. “You should at least have a little bit.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Come on,” Ten insisted, wafting the bowl at Johnny’s face. “Just one bite.”

“Fine,” Johnny agreed, sitting up with slow, precise movements as he pushed down the blankets and took the bowl from Ten. Robotically, he took a bite of food, chewing it only as much as was necessary before swallowing. The slice of pork was an oily vat of grease that coated his mouth; the tofu was chewy rubber. _Disgusting_ , Johnny put the chopsticks down and placed  tge offending food on the nightstand before crawling back under the covers.

Ten glanced at the barely touched bowl. “Don’t like it?”

Silence.

“How about a cookie then?” Ten rummaged through the pile of snacks he had gotten for Johnny. “Chips?”

Silence.

“How about chocolate? Or coffee? You like coffee.”

“Why are you so nice to me?”

Ten’s hands stilled. “What? Cause you’re my friend.”

Johnny hadn’t missed the brief hesitance in Ten’s movements—the flicker of distress and sorrow. As usual, the real answer was always on Ten’s face—Johnny just had to look for it. “The others don’t do this.”

“Well,” Ten plucked out a package of cookies for himself. “I’m a special person you know. Your best friend,” he grinned at Johnny, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

The anxious concern, the excessive selflessness, the uneasy glances—it made sense. It wasn’t out of simple amicableness that Ten had fretted so. It wasn’t just friendly worry, wasn’t amiable sympathy. Johnny knew what it was, but he couldn’t give Ten what he wanted. Johnny was dirty and tainted. All he’d do is contaminate Ten—drag him down into the dirt with Johnny, corrode him as they rolled in the mud together.

Gently, Johnny took Ten’s hands in his own, closing his eyes as he brought them to his lips. Ten’s skin was just as sweet as Johnny had always imagined, but Ten’s lips that night had been much sweeter. _Too bad I’ll never taste them again_ , Johnny quietly smiled into those precious hands.

“Your love is wasted on me.”

-

Cold. Hungry. Thirsty. Lonely. Johnny laid on the ground beside the monster, staring up at the unlit sky—the dingy moon, the dim stars.  Cold, hungry, thirsty, lonely. Johnny was all these things—or had been. At the first shiver, the beast had been there offering Johnny a blanket. He had resisted at first, choosing to freeze rather than take up its offer, but the trembling grew worse and the pins and needles forced him into accepting the cozy quilt. But the chill only worsened and soon, Johnny stopped shivering, his limbs gradually turning into icicles instead as his skin grew from reddened to pale.

The beast had brought more blankets then, but it didn’t help. A great fire followed by an even grandiose bonfire—nothing. Finally, it pulled Johnny into a tight embrace and instantly, the chill evaporated, but now he was hungry. Ravenous. The monster hunted food for Johnny. Anything Johnny had desired suddenly appeared in his hands in the picture-perfect image of what he had in mind—taste, texture, smell, amount, temperature. Everything—cooked to perfection.

However, the more Johnny ate, the thirstier he grew. The creature carried him to a bubbling spring, cupping the crystal-clear water in its great paw and bringing it to Johnny’s lips. Cold, hungry, thirsty—all of it had been satiated, but Johnny was lonely now. So, so lonely. But the beast was there for Johnny once again—there for Johnny as it ferried him off from his friends, away from Ten. Now it was just he and the monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi!  
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	7. Devil's Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a different chapter planned originally, but i realized it'd be better later on. instead, this current chapter is part of a massive 10k word chapter that i barely managed to chop up ;; it's also pretty unedited, but i hope you guys enjoy it anyway ( ´▽` )

For weeks, everyone walked on eggshells around Johnny—especially those who had been chosen to be part of NCT U: his dearest friends. But he no longer cared. He didn’t care much about anything at all. Just going through the motions of what he had been doing for the past several years was hard enough, but he forced himself to do it—he had to. He’d drag himself awake before nine, fighting the gloom that weighed down on him and enticed him into staying in bed as his alarm blared on endlessly. It took tremendous effort and a lot of coaxing, but eventually he’d shove the blankets off his body and crawl out of bed. If he lingered for even a moment or simply sat up instead, he’d stay there for another hour or two, stuck.

Changing out of his pajamas was a chore. Brushing his teeth, taking care of his skin—more burdensome tasks to do. Packing his bag for the day, a chore. Leaving the comfort of his room and dorm to get in a van, a chore. His day was full of nothing but chores he had no desire doing. All he really wanted to do was crawl back into the comfort of his bed and pretend the day didn’t exist, but he couldn’t. Although he was never hungry, he’d make himself get some breakfast too—always something simple and quick like a slice of bread or a muffin or else he just wouldn’t eat. He always made certain to get his cup of coffee at the very least. The spike of energy made his day go just that much smoother, even if it wasn’t much.

Getting up and leaving the dorm was the hard part, but now it became a battle of endurance between himself and his very own mind. Johnny had to stay on guard the entire time he was awake until he passed out in bed, or his thoughts would take over and drive him into a corner of his own making.

 _‘I can’t believe he’s not part of NCT U,’_ his brain played tricks on him, wearing the guise of his closest friends. _‘He worked so hard. Why didn’t they pick him?’_ And it was true. Johnny had worked hard. Why didn’t they choose him? Maybe he wasn’t as skilled as the others, but he had something to add—something to give. Was there something fundamentally wrong with him? Was he defective?

 _‘I feel sorry for Johnny._ ’ The words of pity. The last thing Johnny wanted from anyone. He hated how people danced around him—freezing up whenever he entered the room, choosing their words more carefully when talking to him, being more considerate than they were before. He wasn’t going to shatter again; he wasn’t _that_ weak of a person.

 _Or are you?_ Ah, it was that voice again—the voice of doubt that Johnny had grown intimate with. This was where the real fight began. Rather than his friends, it was himself that Johnny had despised the most. He loathed how twisted he became with bitter jealousy—even catching himself wishing that one of his friends would just break their legs or get hit by a car and delay their own debut, but he felt nauseated as soon as the thought came. How could he be like this? How could he be so vile? So disgraceful? So _hateful?_

Each and every single one of them had put in the same amount of effort—the same amount of sacrifices. They more than deserved their debut—they earned it. Johnny was simply unlucky and that was the plain and bitter simple truth. Lady luck did not bestow her favor upon him and there was nothing Johnny could do about it, so he blamed everything else in an act of desperate self-perseverance as he fended himself from the true horrors. On and on they chased him from the moment he woke to the moment he slept, day in and day out, battling the chains that strapped his body down to his bed before marching into a war of perseverance and grit against the deception of his own mind. He had to stay wary of the slightest bit of joy lest the demons come and ruin him. Keep vigil, stay alert, and do not surrender. But it was endless.

Whenever it felt like he was about to crack from trying to reign in his untamed thoughts, he’d find himself out the door with a pair of shoes on his feet, feeling the pavement pounding beneath them and his lungs burning. The smack of his feet on the concrete pavement radiating up his body felt good. Gasping for air and collapsing on the ground trying to catch his breath felt good. The simple act of focusing on running and not thinking of much else felt good.

“Where are you going?”

Johnny looked up as the dim hall light flickered on. One of the managers was standing in the hall in his pajamas, hair a mess, one hand scratching his belly while the other covered his mouth as he yawned. “I’m just going out for a run,” Johnny gritted out, trying to smile at him.

His manager opened a sleepy eye and glanced at the clock. “At this time? It’s midnight.” Johnny didn’t reply and pulled the door open, only to be met with disappointment. It was raining. Pouring, actually. The raindrops were pelting everything it touched, flooding the streets in a layer of water as the drains struggled to keep up with mother nature. Johnny stuck a hand out and his arm was instantly soaked.

“You’re not going out in weather like that,” his manager firmly said, then more gently, “I can get someone to drive you to the gym if you really need it.”

His thoughtfulness blunted Johnny’s misery, so he shook his head and thanked him, heading back to his room. But as he laid in bed wide awake listening to the endless drumming of the rain, the fight started back up. Why did he say those words to Ten? He loved Ten—always did ever since the very first day they had met in their old dorm. Those fierce tarry eyes of his on an all-too smug face contrasting against that wonderfully saccharine smile drew Johnny in, but when Johnny had heard that liltingly sultry voice of his with the slightest hint of mischief, it was hook, line, and sinker. Johnny didn’t even stand a chance.

Not that it mattered though anymore because Johnny had hurt Ten. He didn’t mean to do it—didn’t want to, especially when he had yearned for Ten for as long as he could remember. Ten had been everything Johnny needed—everything Johnny didn’t know he was missing in life: a tall glass of ice-cold lemonade, syrupy sweet with a punch of sour on the most humid of days; a gently crackling fireplace and a plush blanket wrapped up around Johnny keeping him cozy and snug away from the relentless winds of winter. Whatever Johnny needed, Ten had always been the answer.

Nor was it like Johnny to be so harsh, but it was as if something inside of him had broke—splintered into a thousand pieces with each fragment so fragile that if Johnny tried to pick it up, it crumbled into dust in his hands. The patchwork of confidence that he had finally managed to painstakingly rebuild from whatever had been leftover now laid in tattered shreds again, heartlessly torn into pieces for a second time leaving Johnny vulnerable and exposed.

He had nothing to give to Ten—nothing to offer that was worth all that Ten had to give. He had no money to his name—the allowance they received was meager and just enough to afford an occasional outing. No education beyond high school for Johnny had foolishly placed his bets on fulfilling a dream that was never meant to come true for him. He couldn’t cook either—could barely take care of himself, really, let alone another person. Nor was he the best companion. Johnny was more prone to gloom and doom than the more optimistically confident Doyoung and Jaehyun, more prone to goofing off, messing around, and being completely unreliable than the ever capable Taeyong and Yuta. Even Mark would’ve been a better choice than Johnny. All Johnny had was a broken, worthless heap of scrap with his name on it. No, Ten’s affections were definitely wasted on him.

Still, he couldn’t help himself from loving Ten.

Deep into the night, the rain had finally died down into a soft, hypnotizing pitter patter as it drummed across the roof, lulling the people who dwelled within into a deep slumber—all except Johnny. Johnny laid wide awake in bed in a mind-numbingly sleepless state, watching some dull, humorless movie on his laptop in hopes that it would persuade his restless mind into a boredom of sorts and allow him to sleep. It didn’t. Instead, his brain kept itself entertained with its own wicked cruelty.

He looked up at the sound of the knob turning and the soft creaking of the door to see Ten creeping in. They hadn’t spoken a single word to one another beyond simple pleasantries ever since that day. Johnny suspected that Ten had been avoiding him too, not that it came as much of a surprise. Ten would be gone by the time Johnny finally woke up and he wouldn’t be back until well into the night when he thought Johnny was asleep. Rarely was Johnny ever asleep though—he couldn’t sleep until he knew Ten was back.

Ten paused mid-step with one hand on the doorknob, heart sinking as he noticed the flickering images from Johnny’s laptop. Johnny had a strange expression on his face—one that Ten had been seeing more and more often the past few weeks: a flat, muted anguish. “Why are you still awake, hyung?” he quietly pulled the door shut behind him, turning the lock with a click. “It’s 3AM.”

Johnny shuddered, feeling Ten’s silky, soft voice slinking down his body, deep into his fingers and toes. _How long has it been since we last spoke? Since I last heard him call me hyung?_ he wondered to himself as he shut his laptop closed and put it to the side, plunging the room into darkness. The only light they had came from the dim moonlight that managed to peek behind the clouds.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Johnny quietly replied, watching as Ten set his things down with a dull thud. He was soaked from head to toe and his usual shaggy hair sat in clumps, dripping onto the floor.

“Couldn’t sleep? Why not?” Ten didn’t really want to know—didn’t want to talk to Johnny or even see him, but he could feel Johnny’s watchful eyes on him observing each and every single one of his movements.

“I wanted to see you,” Johnny softly replied with a half-smile, watching as Ten briefly paused, his movements jerky and stiff. He looked uncomfortable. Tense. _I guess he was avoiding me after all_. _My fault_ , Johnny bitterly smiled, heart dropping. Still, he selfishly wanted to see Ten and perhaps even have a small conversation with him even if it was for but the briefest of moments—even if Johnny was the sole reason for their crumpled friendship. “I missed you,” Johnny whispered, the words hanging in the air between the two of them.

Ten’s heart lurched in his chest as he nearly stumbled, those dreadful words blindsiding him. Johnny had been so quiet that Ten almost didn’t hear what he said over the rain, but he did. It had been the first time in weeks since Johnny had really said anything to him and of all things that could possibly come out of that mouth of his, why did it have to be _that_? Those horrid words—the last thing Ten wanted to hear from Johnny. “You miss me?” he softly chuckled, gathering his wits as he attempted to smooth his face into an impenetrable mask. “That’s a first.”

But Ten’s façade didn’t fool Johnny. He saw the way that Ten had slumped forward, had heard the sharp intake of breath. Even in the dim moonlight he could just make out the flicker of pain across his face and the balled fists. Maybe, just maybe…? _Maybe he still loves me_. A tiny seed of hope sprung up within Johnny, taking root in his heart as it began to grow.

“That’s a lie, you know,” Johnny murmured, blood rushing loudly in his ears as he pushed himself off his bed. The normally solid floor felt unsteady beneath his feet and every step he took sank into the floor, pitching him forward.

“I missed you,” Johnny repeated, licking his lips and swallowing as he considered his next words. His tongue felt thick and cottony in his mouth, just like the rest of his body. “I’ve missed you so much, Ten. So much that it hurts.”

He loved Ten, but he could never tell him. There was just too much at stake for the two of them, but Johnny no longer had anything left to lose. His dream had been snatched away from him, the door slammed shut, locked, and bolted up in his face, but then there was Ten—another door, another desire that had always dangled oh so temptingly in front of Johnny. He had ignored the tantalizing treat in favor of becoming an idol for so long that when his opportunity slipped away yet again, Johnny was left high and dry, stretched and strapped down onto the desert floor with the merciless sun beating down on him. He had placed his bets and he lost the game and now Johnny, had nothing left—nothing but a hollow, empty shell.

“That sounds like a load of bullshit,” Ten snorted, turning his back against Johnny, fixating on a spot on the wall. He couldn’t look at Johnny—didn’t trust his eyes to not give himself away, didn’t trust himself to stand firm against that sincerity on Johnny’s face that he knew he’d find. One look and Ten would cave—all the heartbreak wiped away and replaced with weak bothersome love. But Ten knew better. All there was to Johnny’s words were lies and deceit. It had to be.

“It’s not,” Johnny replied, watching the rapid rise and fall of Ten’s back. His fists were still balled up tight by his sides as he trembled in the shadowy moonlight, stoutly refusing to grace Johnny with that woundingly sharp gaze of his. “It’s the truth. I missed hearing your voice and feeling your touch,” Johnny whispered, the floor boards creaking over the sound of the rain as he stepped towards Ten.

“Bullshit,” Ten choked out, a sob caught in his throat. He could no longer hold it in anymore, could no longer hold his ground against his silly, naïve heart as it latched onto Johnny’s words.

“No,” Johnny shook his head. “That hand of yours always made me feel dizzy whenever you touched me. I loved that feeling.” He was lingering just behind Ten now, taking in the damp scent of rain mingling with spicy cologne radiating off Ten as he stood shivering, teeth-chattering, clothes glued to his body. With shaky hands, Johnny slowly reached out towards Ten, feeling the cool wet cloth beneath his own warm hand, expecting Ten to either bolt or slap his touch away, but Ten did neither of those. Slowly, Johnny wrapped his arms around Ten, enveloping him into a hug. “I missed feeling your hands on me. Your laughter in my ears. Your voice. Your eyes.”

“Bullshit!” Ten sobbed in earnest now, collapsing into Johnny’s embrace as his strength gave out on him. There was danger in Johnny’s words—a threat shrieking at Ten reminding him of Johnny’s rejection, a primitive warning begging him to run away, to not listen to Johnny’s devilish words. But he was rooted in place by Johnny’s arms, betrayed and frozen stiff by his own beating heart.

For the past few weeks Ten had tried to bury his feelings by throwing himself into work, tried to make them disappear by filling his free time studying Korean, tried to forget all about them by fatiguing his body with dancing, but nothing had worked. His feelings had clung on, refusing to let go of the smallest bit of hope that Ten didn’t even know was there. “Why are you doing this to me? Why?! Do you hate me that much?”

He had already rejected Ten once. Wasn’t that enough to satiate his jealousy? Did Johnny hate Ten so much for snatching away his dream? He gripped at Johnny’s arms with his frozen hands trying to hold himself up, only to change his mind as he tried to shove Johnny away. But Johnny was warm and Ten was cold—so cold. All the exercise, the lack of food and sleep, the rain soaking into his bones—they left him cold and exhausted and, in his fatigue, Ten found himself weak and vulnerable against Johnny’s words. He loved Johnny after all. It was a hateful fact he couldn’t get rid of.

“No,” Johnny replied into his hair, tightening his hold and entwining Ten’s icy hands with his own, “I don’t hate you.”

 _I love you_ , the words roared in Johnny’s mind, but the words refused to come no matter how much he tried. They were stuck—trapped by something else: a seed of hatred. It was yin and yang, heaven and hell, fire and water—the paradoxical duality necessary for life to exist. He tried and tried to say those three little words—to warm Ten up, but each time he tried, there was nothing. Just a twitch of his lips, a bob of his Adam’s apple, saliva building up in his mouth. Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi!  
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	8. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i took so long to update ರ_ರ tbh i'm not happy with the current flow of my story but if i edit it it's gonna take at least another month or two before i pull it back to where i want it, so rather than make you guys wait anymore i figured i'd just roll out with what i have now and maaaaybe come back and edit it later on or something idk. hope you guys enjoy this <3

The rain started picking up again, rattling the windows with its might as the moon disappeared behind the thick clouds once more. Ten stayed silent, struggling to regain control of himself and wrap his mind around what was happening. Why was Johnny doing this to him? Why? Why now of all times? Johnny told him that his love was wasted on him—the words a slap in the face, a spear impaling Ten’s heart. He wasn’t even sure if Johnny had heard him the night he confessed—wasn’t sure if he even wanted Johnny to hear or not. He was simply sick and tired of holding it in—of watching Johnny willfully ignore his own feelings while Ten knew otherwise. But now here they were in that awkward place of being not quite friends, but not quite lovers. Was it his fault for doing this to them? For being greedy for something a little more?

When was it that he fell for Johnny anyway? Ten couldn’t remember, but he knew exactly how it happened. He had been screwing around with Johnny once again—same as he had done for everybody else. Usually, he’d get a look of mild amusement or annoyance, but with Johnny it was something totally unexpected instead—a deer caught in the headlights. Now _that_ got his attention. Gradually, he poked and prodded at Johnny, studying his reactions before quickly coming to the conclusion that Johnny had liked him. Even more than that, Ten had realized that he too had fallen for Johnny.

In his naïve excitement, Ten had tried to scheme his way into getting Johnny to admit his feelings, but he quickly ran into thick stonewalls that refused to even entertain the matter. Every single little thing Ten had done was met by a stoic brick wall even though Johnny’s all too expressive face always said otherwise. Johnny wouldn’t hold his hands, wouldn’t snuggle up with him. Wouldn’t do anything that that older man deemed as inappropriate in that mind of his. The only reaction Ten would ever get was a twitch of his lips, soulful eyes widening in surprise, a change in his breathing. But Ten wanted more.

Frustrated, he tried getting a rise out of Johnny instead by making him jealous, but that quickly backfired. More than backfired really. It marked the beginning of the end of their friendship as it was, and it was all Ten’s fault. It was only within the past several weeks that Ten finally began to understand why Johnny refused to even breach the topic no matter what Ten had done. If he thought about it, Ten could even understand why Johnny had rejected him the way he did, but Ten didn’t want to understand. Johnny had hurt him.

Now there was Johnny—Johnny’s arms around him, Johnny’s warm breath tickling the top of his head, Johnny’s chest pressed up against his back—Johnny telling Ten that he had missed him even after Johnny had rejected him. The only thing worse than Johnny was his own weakened heart locking him in place, obstinately refusing the voice of reason telling Ten that he should be leave—go before he got hurt again. But he was cold from the rain—so, so cold and Johnny was warm.

“You should get changed,” Johnny’s warm breath tickled his wet hair. Ten nodded in acknowledgement, unwilling to move. He had spent the past year fantasizing about this very moment under vastly different circumstances—always dreaming of a different reality where he and Johnny could be together without worrying about the consequences and now it was coming true. But there was that pesky little voice still, telling him to stop. Not that it did much anyway because the longer Ten had stayed there, the fainter the voice got as Johnny’s heart beat against his back.

“At least take your hoodie off,” Johnny murmured before turning a reluctant Ten around and helping him out of the drenched clothing. He didn’t want Ten getting sick even if it wasn’t his own debut. The hoodie came off with a wet plop as it fell to the ground, leaving Ten trembling in a damp white T-shirt.

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny clucked his tongue, “You’re soaked! How long were you out there?” He reached over to grab a towel, briefly registering the way Ten’s shirt was glued to his body, teasing the bit of smooth skin hidden beneath in the faint moonlight.

“A while. I walked home because I didn’t want to call the manager for a driver,” Ten shivered, teeth chattering as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess I should’ve come home earlier.” By the time Ten had noticed the time, it had already been 2AM. He didn’t want to call his manager and sit through yet another lecture about coming home earlier. There was no point in explaining why he didn’t want to see Johnny too, so he excused it as trying to perfect the choreography before debuting.

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Johnny agreed, sitting down on the bed and pointing at the space between his legs, “Come here. Let’s get you dried off.” This time, he couldn’t ignore the way Ten’s shirt clung to his body as he made his way over, sinking down on the ground in front of Johnny and glancing up at him much like he did that day in the living room, but instead of a mischievous smile, he got a docile, expectant glance instead.

“Hyung?” Ten prompted.

“Oh,” Johnny blinked, unsuccessfully shaking off the flash of naked velvety soft skin from his mind as he picked up the fluffy towel. He could see the slightest hint of it teasing him. “Any better?” Johnny croaked out, drying his hair off as he resisted the urge to reach out and caress that skin.

“Yes, hyung,” Ten replied, eyes fluttering shut from the small massage. “It feels good,” he sighed, making Johnny’s heart skip a beat. The innocent words echoed in his mind as something more sensual—more primitive and needy. _It feels good._ He could almost picture those three words rolling off of Ten’s tongue as he laid drenched in sweat, pinned beneath Johnny on the very bed he was sitting on with his silky hair plastered against his forehead, brows furrowed, head thrown back with his neck exposed and--

“Johnny?” Ten looked up at him, puzzled why he had suddenly stopped.

“Oh. Sorry,” he quickly apologized, scrubbing at his hair. _Jesus Christ_ , Johnny tried to unsuccessfully will away the tendrils of heat coiling around him. He had forgotten how sexy Ten was capable of being even if all he was doing was absolutely nothing—a curse for Johnny since he couldn’t shake the images from his mind. “A-any better?” he croaked out, trying to find something—anything—to distract himself.

“Yes, hyung. Much better,” Ten answered. Johnny was being strange. Extremely strange. He had one of those looks in his eyes—the stormy one that Ten had only seen a handful of times. Ten had always wondered what it was and what it meant, but never did quite have enough time nor opportunity to tinker around and see just what made Johnny tick. However, seeing him up close like this… Well, Ten was starting to put the pieces together.

“I’m still cold though,” Ten added. A test of sorts—he wanted to see how exactly Johnny would react and if it really was what he had suspected.

“Y-you should go get changed,” Johnny thickly replied, missing the little glimmer of trouble in Ten’s eyes. He was too distracted by the scenes playing in his mind.

Ten grinned, a thrill taking a hold of him as he noticed Johnny’s distraction. “The bathroom’s too far though,” he complained, leaning his head back against Johnny’s thigh and looking up at him with a small pout. He stifled a laugh watching Johnny’s sharp inhale.

 _Is he fucking with me?_ Johnny narrowed his eyes at the giggling younger man. His hair sat in a tousled mess, but that only emphasized how sensual Ten. And then there was that damned shirt. _Fine. Two can tango_ , Johnny decided. “Why don’t you change here then?” he suggested.

Ten paused, heart hammering loudly in his ears as he thought about what to do next. He didn’t think Johnny would actually fall for it, but now that he did, Ten could barely contain his excitement. “Okay,” Ten licked his lips, stumbling as he stood up. He deliberately faced Johnny, keeping his eyes locked on the older man as he began to pull his shirt off at a maddingly slow pace, exposing his flesh once inch at a time.

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny murmured involuntarily, biting down on his lip as his eyes raked across Ten’s lithe body. _Turns out Ten was up to something after all—_ and boy, was he absolutely sublime. The honeyed skin was smoother than Johnny had imagined and an all too tempting treat just begging for Johnny just to gobble it up. His muscles—sinewy and lean, deceiving others of the true strength it held in his slender frame—a fact that Johnny had the misfortune of personally finding out.

 _Was he always this sexy?_ Johnny swallowed. The dim moonlight wasn’t doing Johnny any favors either, casting long shadows across Ten’s body, accentuating every single one of his curves and bumps. It even added a certain radiance to Ten’s skin, giving him an ethereal-like glow. The shirt soon came off and Johnny sat in a trance, growing hornier and hornier by the minute.

Ten smirked at Johnny’s expression: hooded eyes, bitten lips, flushed cheeks—a look of pure lust. Ten’s plan was a success, but what now? There was always his pants which was starting to make his legs chafe and itch, but he was unwilling to take them off just yet—wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go that far. Not that he had to think any farther since he was still cold and had began to quiver once again.

“Why don’t you come here?” Johnny seized at the opportunity, sitting back and making room for Ten as he grabbed a blanket from behind him. “Let’s get you warmed up.” It was an empty gesture of kindness however because really, Johnny wasn’t being thoughtful. It was a demand outfitted in a weak act of kindness.

With trembling legs, Ten slowly took a step forward and another, intending to take his sweet time and draw the moment out for as long as possible, but Johnny had other ideas, impatiently reaching out for him and yanking the younger man onto the bed between his legs while wrapping the blankets around the two of them. They sat there for a while as Ten listened to the heavy breathing coming from behind, tickling his nape and setting off little sparks across his skin.

“Your shirt is wet too, hyung,” Ten murmured after a moment, balling the edges of Johnny’s cotton shirt in his fists and giving it a light tug. it had gotten damp from embracing Ten earlier.

Johnny glanced down at Ten’s hand. “So it is,” Johnny acknowledged, yanking the offending shirt off with a flourish and chucking it across the room. He chuckled as Ten widened his eyes in surprise. Clearly, Ten didn’t think his little scheme through. _No matter_ , Johnny smiled to himself. He had an idea of his own.

“You’re still so cold,” Johnny murmured, rubbing his hands across Ten’s goosebumped skin, marveling at how Ten would gasp and jerk at every single little touch as Johnny roamed his hands across the nooks and crannies of his body. It was definitely way better than Johnny could have imagined. No amount of fantasizing could capture all the little nuances: Ten’s quiet little pants, the fluttering of his eyelids, his weight against Johnny’s chest, the tickle from his silky hair. Then there was the drum of rain and the occasional moonlight as it periodically peeped out behind the clouds. No, Johnny’s imagination definitely could not recreate this.

Slowly, he made his way down Ten’s arms. His hands were still cold and those wet socks couldn’t have possibly been comfortable. Johnny reached out, pulling Ten’s legs onto the bed and rolling the socks down off his feet. “Are you feeling any warmer?” Johnny murmured, massaging Ten’s feet.

“Yes,” Ten answered, melting into his arms. The foot massage was much needed after several days of nearly ten-hour stunts locked up in the dance studio, trying to hide from Johnny for as long as possible. But now, here he sat in Johnny’s arms, enjoying a foot massage after just a few nice words. Was he that weak? He had resolved to stay away from him, to try and mend his broken heart, but Ten couldn’t stay away no matter how he tried. His defenses were weakened—his body frozen from the rain and exhausted from a combination of not sleeping enough and dancing way too much. Not to mention all the stress and guilt from being part of NCT U and Johnny’s own lack of debut.

He squeezed his eyes shut as Johnny sank his thumbs in, allowing the mixture of pain and pleasure to get rid of the voice of reason nagging at him in the background. Ten didn’t want to listen to it. He had seen what that voice had done to Johnny over the years and didn’t want to turn out like his hyung—constantly holding himself back from enjoying life because of some silly moral dilemma he made up in his head. Besides, the consequences couldn’t be that bad, could it? Even if it were, Ten figured he could deal with it. Life was about enjoyment after all and for now, he wanted to enjoy his damn foot massage.

He was even finally beginning to warm up and it wasn’t just from Johnny’s massage alone. It was the arms tightly embracing him from behind, heat radiating from the bare chest that leaned against him. If Ten focused, he could even feel Johnny’s wildly beating heart that was much at odds with his seemingly calm demeanor. Johnny smelt good too—a manly, fresh citrus that made his head swim with every breath. And then his hands… Ten’s eyes fluttered shut again as Johnny began to work on his toes. Each press of Johnny’s hands felt like heaven across his tired feet and when Johnny knuckled a particularly sensitive spot, he groaned with pleasure, only to hear the rumbling of Johnny’s laughter from above.

“What?” he glared up at him.

“N-nothing,” Johnny tried to stifle his laughter. He was happy. Ten was absolutely relaxed in his arms, head leaned back on his shoulder, eyes shut in a total state of bliss. _He must be exhausted_ , Johnny mused, pressing his thumbs into Ten’s soles. He had eavesdropped on people discussing how Ten had been staying at the studio for hours at a time, but the moment Johnny walked into the room their lips zipped shut as they panicked at his sudden appearance, scrambling to think of something else to talk about. Ten let out another sigh of pleasure and Johnny had to fight back the joy budding within. It was almost as if they were back being friends again. Almost. Johnny gave Ten’s toes a pinch, forcing him to look up.

“Aren’t you going to give me anything in return?” Johnny chastised him with a purr in his ears before continuing with his massage.

“W-what do you want in return?” Ten choked out, hearing that demand in the low rumble of Johnny’s voice and suddenly remembering that it was his own fault that he was in this situation to begin with.

“Your lips,” Johnny murmured, trying not to chuckle as Ten’s eyes flew open. “I still remember what you tasted like that night,” he continued. “Soft. Delicious. Like honey,” he leaned in, whispering into Ten’s ears and delighting in the strangled sigh he got in reply. “I dreamed about them every night since then, you know.

“R-really?” Ten stuttered out, thoughts of a massage long gone. Johnny was staring down at him, hunger written all over his face as he let go of his feet and started exploring the rest of his body again.

“Yes,” Johnny purred into his ear, turning Ten to face him and pulling the younger man into a straddle on his lap. “Velvety smooth. Delightfully sweet. A luxurious dessert. I’ve always wondered how they’d feel around my cock,” Johnny smirked, grabbing his ass.

Ten hissed in response, eyes widening, hands scrambling across Johnny’s back as his hips rolled up against Johnny’s of their own accord. He could feel the outline of Johnny’s cock hardening beneath him, but that only fueled Ten’s fervor. Images of being on his knees on the floor in front of Johnny, lips wrapped around his cock, Johnny’s hands on his head forcing himself deeper without giving a single fuck about Ten’s comfort. Ten licked his lips. “Y-you can t-taste them now,” he gritted out, trying not to groan as Johnny briefly slipped his thumb into his mouth.

“Oh?” Johnny chuckled as he cupped Ten’s chin and leaned down. “If you insist,” he murmured, tongue flicking out for a lick. Ten’s eyes fluttered shut in response. “Mm. Just as I remembered them. Very sweet. A delicacy,” Johnny sat back, giving Ten a shit-eating as he realized that Johnny wasn’t going to kiss him.

“That’s not how you taste them!” Ten pouted, eyes flying open as he glared up at him. Johnny’s tongue had been hot against his lips and Ten wanted more of it. He had fantasized about this moment again and again over the past few years, yet here Johnny was _teasing_ him. “Do it properly!” Ten demanded, brows furrowing at the mirth dancing in Johnny’s eyes.

“Do what properly?” Johnny murmured, playing dumb as his breath tickled Ten’s lips. “I had a taste of you and you tasted good.” He snaked his tongue out, slowly dragging it across Ten’s bottom lip, making the younger man groan.

“But there’s a _better_ way to do it,” Ten gritted out, trying not to lose to the pleasure from all the torment. It didn’t help that Johnny’s hands were still on his ass, giving him a light squeeze every now and then.

“And what’s that?” Johnny nuzzled Ten’s neck next, tickling the smooth skin with his lips and chuckling when he heard Ten groan in frustration. Lazily, Johnny trailed his lips up his neck, up to his ears before lightly nipping them. A mistake on Johnny’s end for Ten had let out the sexiest moan he’d ever heard.

“You motherfucker,” Ten growled, yanking Johnny’s head down for a kiss. It was a needy demand. Ten wanted Johnny’s lips _now_ and he made sure to let him know just how badly he wanted them with his hands wrapped around Johnny’s neck, pulling him close. Johnny’s hands roamed Ten’s slender body, feeling every bit of that silky-smooth skin he could get his hands on before settling on Ten’s hips.

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Johnny breathed, eyes widening with surprise and lust as Ten rolled his hips.

“How do _you_ like being teased?” Ten hissed, biting down on Johnny’s plump lower lip and slowly dragging it with his teeth as he rolled his hips again, making sure he was snuggly up against the stiffening cock beneath him. His victory was cut short as Johnny growled, digging his hands into Ten’s hips as he stilled them.

“There will be none of that,” he hissed, shoving his tongue in as he massaged Ten’s hips. for the next few moments, the only sounds that could be heard was sloppy kissing and choked groans. Briefly, Johnny wondered if they were too loud, but the rain was still there drowning them out. _Time for some fun._

 “On your knees,” Johnny instructed him, pushing Ten off as he stood up, stripping himself of the rest of his clothes. Ten laid in bed, staring at Johnny in disbelief. Was this really happening? He stared as Johnny stepped out of his boxers, revealing a half-hardened member.

Johnny turned around one hand lazily jerking his cock as he glared at Ten. “Don’t make me repeat myself. On your knees. _Now_.”

Ten scrambled to his feet in a hurry, willing to do whatever Johnny demanded but still, he wanted to put on just a bit of a show for Johnny. Slowly, he sauntered up to Johnny’s imposing figure, ignoring the arousal in those half-lidded eyes as he leisurely wrapped his arms around Johnny, raking his hands through the luscious locks and tugging him down into a lazy kiss.

Johnny’s tongue was hot and heavy in his mouth, demanding for more of him—more of Ten— with grunts and long fingers hungrily raking up and down Ten’s back, each kiss sending him higher and higher as Johnny stole his breath. But Ten wasn’t ready to give in yet, pressing himself into that muscular body and palming the hardening cock.

“ _Ten_ ,” Johnny gritted out impatiently. Ten smirked onto those bruised lips, victorious, trailing licks and nips down Johnny’s body as he finally sank down to his knees, feeling those hungry eyes on him the entire time.

Soon, he was eye to eye with Johnny’s dick, but instead of doing what Johnny wanted most, Ten began to torment him once more, biting that sensitive skin and delighting at each shudder as Johnny hissed, jerking and gasping with each nibble.

The sensations were unreal—each lap of that wet tongue of Ten’s were going straight to his cock and whenever Ten hovered his lips just above Johnny’s cock, only to give it a teasing kiss instead—

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny groaned in frustration. The anticipation was killing him, but Ten continued to ignore him, waiting for Johnny to give in and give in he did, digging his nails into Ten’s shoulders as he urged him to hurry up.

Ten smiled into Johnny’s skin. “Hurry what up, hyung?” He trailed another kiss across his groin, flicking his tongue out for yet another lick before continuing his game. Once in a rare while, Ten had fantasized about this moment when he was alone in the shower, stress transformed into frustrated horniness. He’d picture Johnny, bossing him around like he was in charge but really, it was always Ten that held the leash.

“ _Ten_ ,” Johnny hissed again, nudging his hips forward in frustration, “Hurry up and suck my cock you motherfucker.” The hot breath tickling his thighs, the chilled skin Ten’s saliva left behind, the jolts of pain from his bites. It was too much. Too much.

With a tsk, Ten laid his tongue flat, tracing the throbbing vein from base to tip. “Is that how you’re going to talk to me?” he lightly flicked Johnny’s cock. “Is that how your mother raised you? Where are your manners?”

Johnny swallowed hard, knees buckling from what he had to look forward to. Dignity be damned. He needed Ten’s mouth around his cock and he needed it _now_. “ _Please_ ,” Johnny begged, breath hitching into a whine, “Please Ten.”

“Please what?” Ten kissed the underside of Johnny’s cockhead, grinning at the strangled noise coming from above. Another triumph.

“Please suck my cock, Ten,” he choked, on the verge of sobbing. “ _Please_ , Ten. Please, Chittaph-,” the words died in his mouth into a silent scream as wet heat suddenly engulfed him. Swiftly, Ten got to work bobbing his head, pleasing Johnny as best he could.

It felt good—way better than Johnny could’ve ever imagined. Every inch of him was covered in sticky saliva and then there was the filthiest sounds coming from Ten echoing over the rain. Once again, the worry about someone hearing them came to mind again, but then Ten wrapped a hand around his cock and Johnny could think no longer.

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny breathed, seeing stars from the mixed sensations. Ten smirked around Johnny’s cock as he worked on Johnny’s cock head, swirling around the tip and tasting the slight saltiness of precum coating his tongue before sinking back down again, gagging as he tried to fit Johnny inside his mouth. He wanted more of it—more of Johnny.

However, that wasn’t enough for Johnny. Soon, he had his hands entangled in Ten’s hair, urging him to take his cock deeper and deeper as he felt the familiar tendrils of heat beginning to coil around his groin, telling him that the end was nigh. Obediently, Ten sat back, mouth wide open, struggling to breath as Johnny turned him into a sloppy, gagging mess.

Johnny was intoxicated with lust and Ten loved it. He loved seeing the heated look on Johnny’s face and those dark eyes glued on him as he choked on Johnny’s cock. He loved those furrowed brows and hearing Johnny mindlessly murmuring his name over and over, telling him how good his mouth felt and how sexy he was. More than that though, he loved the feeling of being used and forced into taking each one of Johnny’s relentless snaps, driving the breath from him with each thrust. Johnny was getting closer and closer, his rhythm erratic and desperate.

“T-Ten, I’m g-going to—” Johnny hissed. It was almost there—the tingling in his limbs, his vision fading to black, his mind going blank from nothing but need. A purr and a small nod from Ten was all it took before there was that moment of silence and then pure ecstasy as Johnny collapsed, filling Ten’s mouth with hot spurts of cum as he screamed and dug his nails into Ten’s head.

Ten held his mouth around Johnny’s cock, head spinning as he tried to keep his drool from pooling out, milking every last bit he could. He was unwilling to let go of Johnny just yet, ignoring the breathless hisses and shudders as Johnny told him to stop, but with a plop and a shove, Johnny managed to free his over sensitized cock from Ten’s mouth, crumpling to the floor in a sweaty, trembling mess.

With a grin, Ten swallowed the thick fluid, feeling the bitter saltiness slide down his throat as he swiped the drool away from his face. He had to admit he felt a swell of pride as he gazed at Johnny’s spent form, but he still wasn’t done quite yet. “What about me, hyung?” Ten put on his best innocent face, pleading at Johnny with his eyes.

“J-just give me a minute,” Johnny panted, trying to regain his wits as he clawed his way into a sitting position. He couldn’t even see, let alone consider how much of a little shit Ten was being. Too bad for him because Ten wasn’t having any of it and straddled his lap, pinning Johnny back down onto the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ten cackled at Johnny’s frustrated groan, but as much as he wanted Johnny to pleasure him, Ten didn’t want the night to come to an end yet. It was the only chance he had to be with Johnny—the only time he could truly be with him, naked not just in flesh but in soul, vulnerable and defenseless, his heart laid out in the open for Johnny to behold. He wanted Johnny to see him. To really _see_ him even if Johnny would never take him. Even if after this night, they’d be nothing once more. But the night hadn’t come to an end yet.

Slowly, he planted kisses along Johnny’s jaw, on his cheeks, and down the slope of his nose, taking his time as he caressed and tasted the velvety skin, breathed in the musky scent of sweat, and heard the soft breaths and quiet sighs. As he moved on to Johnny’s lips, Ten cradled his head in his arms, settling down for a slow, tender kiss. He wanted to commit this moment to memory. Engrave Johnny’s comforting warmth and the way Johnny’s heart beat quick and light beneath his hand onto his skin. Etch Johnny’s languid eyes and his pouty lips with the way the corners of his mouth curled up into a mischievous sulk into his mind. Carve his bittersweet love for Johnny into his heart and bury it deep down inside so that he may never forget it.

He loved Johnny. He loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	9. Crash

The sudden lavish of attention, the gentle loving hands on his cheeks, the saccharine lips against his own… _Is this what I’ve been missing?_ Those captivating tarry eyes studiously tracing Johnny as if he were an awe-inspiring masterpiece for Ten to appreciate. This simple bliss without a care nor worry in sight, the consequences of what they were doing—nothing but a mere fantasy. Pure, simple freedom. It was so close that Johnny could almost taste it, but no matter how much he longed for it, no matter how much he yearned and reached, happiness just seemed to slip between his fingertips, fluttering out of sight after mocking him with a taste. There was always that hard knot of despair and rage in him sucking away any bit of contentedness that he had found, always the constant reminder of cruel reality. Johnny just wanted to be _happy_ , but that monster—that insidious creature that hid within him—it refused to let go.

Johnny snaked his arms around Ten’s waist, pausing at the chilly dampness beneath his hands. “Your pants,” he murmured, “They’re still wet,” Johnny gave them a lazy tug, chuckling at the bewildered expression he got in return. Ten had forgotten all about the rain and his wet clothes—all his attention had been focused on pleasing Johnny as best he could. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of how uncomfortable he was in them.

As soon as Ten’s pants hit the floor, Johnny pulled him into bed, wrapping a blanket around them both as he curled up against Ten, snuggling into his chest. _Is this what happiness is like?_ Is this what the rest of his life could be? Just he and Ten together in this room, hidden away by the mercy and grace of the rain and moon, their hearts beating together in unison, each beat timidly seeking the other—the rest of the world be damned. Gone would be their uneasy doubts and the disquieting thoughts that intruded upon their peace. Gone would be their knotted history and shared dreams—the very thing that let them meet and the thing that now wedged them apart. Gone would be this sinking feeling in his chest, this gloom that was beginning to take hold of him, this lump in his throat. Gone, gone, gone.

Gone.

But life isn’t a fantasy.

There was simply no future for the two of them. No future at all and the future was what Johnny needed the most. He couldn’t afford to have his already fragile heart stomped upon once again as his hopes and dreams were spat out, ragged and useless. He didn’t want to go through the rest of his life alone anymore, staring at the backs of the people who’ve abandoned him. He wanted someone at his side to wake up to—someone to grab coffee with, to see the world with, maybe even bring home to Chicago and introduce to his friends and family. Someone to share his life with. Someone like Ten.

 _God_ did Johnny want Ten. Every single breath Johnny took, every single beat of Johnny’s heart, every single fiber of Johnny’s being ached for Ten—yearned for him. Ten was the only thing that could quench Johnny’s parched heart—his oasis in the endless Sahara; the beacon of light in stormy seas. He wanted Ten— _needed_ Ten. Johnny needed _all_ of him—every single bit. But it was horrifying—these feelings, this compulsion—it was far more than he could handle.

Surely Johnny would end up all alone, right? After all, he was a failure. How many trainees could claim the dirty title of being rejected from not one but _two_ idol groups? Even worse than that was hearing about his friends back in Chicago. They were already well on their way in achieving their dreams—their lives grandiose, passionate, exciting while Johnny’s was nothing but bitter disappointment day in, day out. Then there was Exo who had rapidly found success and now flourished on TV entertaining the masses on stage in front of thousands of adoring fans, their names on the lips of his new friends as they fantasized about their own fame. All Johnny could do was sit and watch while his old friends did what Johnny wanted most—as he buried the what if’s and buts, the what could have been and what was now. There was nothing Johnny could offer to Ten. Nothing.

 _Why can’t I just be happy?_ Was that simply too greedy of him? Had he done something in his past life that was so unforgivable—so deplorable that he was being punished for it now? What was so wrong with wanting what he did? Wanting to make something out of his life that wasn’t the dull tedium of office work, getting married, having kids, retiring, and then dying. Wanting to be _someone_ —an idol on stage, singing and dancing, cameras on him, the admiration of people, his names screeched out the moment he was spotted. Wanting to be something more than just ordinary friends with Ten in a profession that would never let them. Wanting a life that was worth living.

 _it hurts_. He wanted Ten so much. So much that it hurt.

Ten buried his face into Johnny’s hair, the silky soft strands tickling his cheeks as he breathed Johnny in. Time and time again, Ten had pictured this very moment over the years. He’d fantasize about it during long sleepless nights when the long silence of night stretched out before him—those nights where his feelings for Johnny threatened to boil over and ruin their façade of a friendship. Sometimes it was all Ten could do to not knock on Johnny’s door and wake he and his roommates up. Other nights, Ten didn’t even bother caring, pushing the door open and poking his head in just to catch a glimpse of Johnny sleeping before feeling satisfied enough to go back to bed.

Yes, this was almost a dream come true, this exact scenario was. Just a singular isolated moment in time and space, a separate dream from the reality they lived in—just a moment for he and Johnny to _be_. But Johnny was quiet. Too quiet.

Ten cracked an eye open, lifting his head to look down at him, stomach dropping as he pushed aside those long bangs. That tortured look was on Johnny’s face again—the furrowed brows, the clenched jaw, the taunt face—an expression that Ten was all too familiar with. He had seen it often early into their friendship, never asking Johnny about it but knowing exactly why it was there. Ten had heard the rumors after all—the ones about Exo’s debut and Johnny’s history with them. Over the years Ten had always wondered why Johnny hadn’t debuted with them, but never did ask. He just didn’t want to know, plain and simple. It was a sore topic for Johnny anyway and if Ten was honest, he was perfectly happy having Johnny by his side because of Exo leaving him behind.

As the months went by, that miserable expression all but disappeared, replaced with smiles and laughter—that is, until the announcement of NCT. Then that gloom was back with a fury and with it was a new expression that Ten hadn’t seen before—a bitter, jealous hatred. One look from Johnny and Ten was left wanting to shrink away in a corner, away from that spiteful gaze of Johnny’s. No more was the cheery goofball, but out came the vindictive contempt instead. Ten had wanted to make it better but how could he possibly do that when he was part of the cause of Johnny’s pain? Still, he wanted to Johnny to be happy, even if it were just for a single night.

“Hyung,” Ten murmured into Johnny’s hair, “Talk to me.”

Silence.

“Hyung, please,” he cradled Johnny’s cheek, trying to get Johnny to look up only to be met with stubborn resistance.

“Johnny, _please_ ,” he persisted, wiggling down instead, kissing those taunt sullen lips of his. Just what was on Johnny’s mind? What was Johnny thinking of that pained him? Why did Johnny always refuse to share his worries with him? Let go of some of that burden for Ten to handle—allow Ten to lighten up some of that load instead of being forced to stare at Johnny’s hunched back, unable to do anything but to wait. “I love you, Johnny,” Ten whispered.

“ _Don’t,_ ” Johnny croaked out. Johnny didn’t want to hear those sincere words. Each syllable was a barbed spear digging into his heart—each kiss shoving them deeper and deeper with no hopes of ever pulling them out. He didn’t want Ten’s loving touches. Each caress was a sharpened razor against his skin slicing him open with every graze, the wound never healing. He most certainly did not want Ten’s love. It was a snake wrapped around his heart sinking in its venomous fangs, spreading the threat of hope and poisoning him from within with every beat of his heart. The only antidote was to leave: to flee from Ten before there was no turning back, to escape before he got hurt once more.

But Johnny was empty without Ten. He was a lost boy—a child abandoned and cast aside by the cruelty of life with nowhere else to go but back towards those loving arms. But letting Ten in—the very thought petrified him. How could he trust Ten? How could he be certain that those arms would remain wide open waiting for Johnny, accepting all that he was and all that he is? How could he be sure that Ten wouldn’t abandon him and leave him behind? And if Ten did leave, then what? _No_. It was scary. Too scary.

“I love you, Johnny,” Ten repeated, trailing kisses upon Johnny’s face.

”Please don’t,” Johnny choked. He had to get away—run away _now_ , but those lips strapped his limbs down and ensnared his heart, locking him into place. Every taste of happiness singed his skin and left its mark—a warning instead of a generous gift. If he opened his heart, would Ten grow disgusted and repulsed of who Johnny _truly_ was? Would Ten see all this ugliness—this shameful failure, this vile spite and bitter hatred? Would Ten see all of that and flee? No. **_No_** _._ “I told you. Your love is wasted on me.”

“I don’t care about that,” Ten countered, shushing a protest with yet another kiss. He wanted to take the pain away from Johnny—all those doubts, those anxieties. Whatever it was that plagued Johnny, Ten wanted to absolve him from it—let Johnny’s demons poison him instead.

Johnny shook his head. “You just don’t see it—all this ugliness in me. You’d hate me if you saw it—if you saw what I was _really_ like,” Johnny whispered, the edges of his vision blurring. Why was Ten doing this to him? There was nothing special about him—nothing wasn’t easily replaced by someone else—someone better. Someone who wasn’t himself. He was worthless. _Worthless_. A broken man. A barren waste. Garbage just waiting for time to take him out. Why would anyone want _that?_

“No I wouldn’t. I want _you_ ,” Ten rested a finger against Johnny’s chest, tapping it once, “I want the you that’s in here.” But Johnny remained unconvinced, trapped in a battle of his own making. Ten watched as the flitter of emotions crossed Johnny’s face. How could he help Johnny? Help him tame those thoughts that ran wild in that mind of his and learn to just _be_? “Why don’t you stop thinking?” Ten suggested, reaching up to feel the taunt cheek beneath his hand. “Stop thinking and start feeling.”

Johnny furrowed his brows as he contemplated Ten’s words. _Stop thinking…? Start feeling…?_ It was an answer of sorts, but how was he supposed to just do that? If he simply allowed his emotions to run amok without keeping it in check, surely there’d be consequences wouldn’t there? But thinking on the other hand—thinking got him _this_. All this unnecessary self-inflicted loathing, this needless despair as he nailed himself to a cross of his own making. He was tired of it—of himself.

“How?” Johnny quietly asked, his voice barely carrying above the pitter patter of the rain. “How do I stop thinking? How do I start feeling?”

“Like this,” Ten pressed himself against Johnny as he grabbed ahold of Johnny’s hand and rested his cheek onto it. “Feel me. Stop thinking and _feel me_.”

Hesitantly, Johnny smoothed his hand across Ten’s cheek, trying to let the sensations flood his mind. _Soft and warm_ , he noted. He moved onto Ten’s lips next, taking in the way how Ten’s eyes twitched behind closed lids as Johnny traced his mouth, feeling the plush clouds beneath his thumb before leaning in for a kiss. Ten tasted like cloyingly sweet honey—liquid gold in Johnny’s mouth, a treasure trove of promises of tomorrow that soothed Johnny’s fears and anxiety away. Those lips smiled against Johnny’s, the curve lingering on Ten’s face long after Johnny had pulled away.

He sat up, brushing the hair from Ten’s face as he marveled at how Ten remained impossibly statuesque even without all the makeup to hide the few flaws that marred his skin. The scars and blemishes only served to enhance Ten’s innate elegance. Even the dim light couldn’t hide the ethereal glow that radiated from Ten as he laid in bed, basking beneath Johnny’s attention. “You’re so beautiful,” Johnny murmured as he traced his eyes down the bridge of Ten’s quaint nose.

“Beautiful?” Ten looked up at Johnny through fluttering lashes.

Johnny nodded. “Yes. You’re like a work of art.”

“Good to see that you aren’t blind,” Ten hummed, the contentment from Johnny’s sudden compliment dancing along the corners of his lips.

Johnny chuckled. “Arrogant as ever. I love that about you,” he grinned. A mistake on his end.

Ten’s eyes snapped open as he stared up at Johnny and searched his face, unsure of how to decipher those words. “Is,” Ten started, swallowing once as he tried to find his voice, “Is it me that you love or just my arrogance?” He tried to grin—to play his question off as a joke, but all that came out was a trembling whisper instead.

 _Shit_ , Johnny’s hands stilled before going back to what they were doing. He hadn’t quite meant for it to be interpreted like _that_ ; he didn’t mean much at all in fact. The words came out before Johnny even had the time to think about them—going with the flow of emotions rather than try to reign them in under his control and the result was _that_. _Too late now_ , Johnny chastised himself as he thought of his next answer. The words Ten wanted to hear most were right there, but Johnny couldn’t wrench them free from his lips. “You- your arrogance,” he lamely replied.

Ten sank back down into the bed, disappointment sagging down upon his shoulders as he shoved Johnny’s hand aside and turned away. He knew exactly how Johnny was going to answer the moment he asked, yet it was still a slap in the face either way.

“I-“ Johnny swallowed, the blunder thumping within his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I-“

“Stop it,” Ten sighed, tiredly waving a hand at Johnny. This too he had predicted. Really, he knew Johnny better than Johnny knew himself. The moment that Ten had set his heart upon Johnny all those years ago, he had already anticipated how things were likely to turn out between the two of them—if anything were to occur anyway. Now that it did, it was exactly as how Ten had imagined.

Getting Johnny to let go of some of that self-loathing—Johnny’s drug of choice—it was going to take time and patience. Lots of patience. Trying to get Johnny to see that reality wasn’t as cruel as he made it out to be—more time and patience. But Ten was willing to wait and try. He didn’t care if it drove him to the brink of insanity or not. He’d do it for Johnny even if it meant losing himself. He’d do it, just for Johnny.

The rain finally stopped entirely and the moon peeked back through the clouds, bestowing the lands with its merciful glow once more. Ten had returned to cuddling Johnny, his head against Johnny’s chest as he listened to the quiet steady heartbeats: _ba-thump, ba-thump_. But Johnny laid stiff and unmoving, breaths shallow and short, fearful that any movement he made would ruin their moment once again. Ten looked up at him, quietly snorting when he saw the timid wide-eyed stare on Johnny’s face.

“You can move you know. I’m not mad at you,” he informed him, tapping Johnny’s nose once with a small smile. And he wasn’t—he really wasn’t angry with Johnny even though he felt like he should’ve been. It was fine even if Johnny didn’t give him the answer he wanted most. It was fine even if Johnny might not ever admit how he felt. As long as Johnny wasn’t unhappy, everything was fine. After all, Ten didn’t even think that they’d ever get this far in their lifetime. Why would they have? One mistake and their world would crumble beneath them, swallowing them whole into the abyss for the years to come until they finally faded into obscurity. Anything more than what he had now would be pure greed.

Johnny hesitated for a moment before shifting into a more comfortable position and pulling Ten back into him. It was cozy having Ten like this—having one of his deepest dreams come true. How long it would last—Johnny didn’t know, but he didn’t care anymore. The earlier tumult had quelled down into an easily ignorable chatter and it was more peaceful this way. Tranquil.

“I… I do love you, you know,” the words finally tumbled forth, freed from the chains of doubt, “I’m just… scared.” He felt a stir beside him as Ten propped himself up.

“Scared of what?” Ten softly questioned after the words had sunken in.

“You. Me. This,” Johnny licked his lips. “I’m scared.”

“Why?” Ten searched his face—lovely tarry pools darting back and forth. “What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared of you leaving me,” Johnny whispered in a tiny voice. “I’m scared of you leaving me and I’m scared of chasing you away. I don’t want to be alone anymore. Please don’t leave me alone,” he looked up at Ten.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ten reached down and entwined their fingers together. “I’m staying right here. See?” he gave Johnny’s hand a small squeeze and smiled down at him.

“Okay,” Johnny gave a small nod. One by one, the locks that had tightly barred his heart slid open, allowing Johnny to finally open that door and let Ten in. “Okay.”

Ten grinned and settled back down beside Johnny. “Now let’s get some sleep. Good night, Johnny. I love you.”

Johnny’s heart skipped a beat, happiness flooding through him. “Love you too.”

 _Love you too_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title namesake: [99 neighbors - crash](https://open.spotify.com/track/5gyf7iwFC4AV5fYuQR3Q6G) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aP5xse1H6A))
> 
> come say hi!  
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	10. Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~i'm going to be gone for the next few weeks for vacation. i have chapters that i was going to try to schedule to be posted every sunday until i realized that ao3 doesn't have that capability so.. ರ_ರ i'll try my best to remember to post while i'm away but no guarantee!~~ back now!

For the first few weeks, Johnny was in absolute bliss. Every morning, he’d awake to Ten tightly wrapped up around him in his narrow bed, but Johnny didn’t mind. A sore neck was a wonderful exchange for being able to wake up with Ten next to him. Other mornings, Ten would wake him up with a kiss instead, his lips curving up into a smile as he greeted Johnny good morning. After a few short minutes of sweet lazy cuddling, they’d reluctantly force themselves out of bed, getting ready for the day to come.

The bit of wistfulness from being apart only lasted a moment before it was washed away by light, airy footsteps as Johnny glided across the floor and greeted the others good morning. The first few days, the guys had been thoroughly confused by the rapid shift in Johnny’s mood, but they dropped their concerns upon seeing no trace of worry on Ten’s face. Only their managers came up to him, concerned over the sudden cheerfulness before they too tucked away their worries, convinced that everything was indeed okay with Johnny.

After a quick breakfast, Johnny and Ten would go for dance practice together before splitting up. Ten had his own schedule to follow for his upcoming debut, so Johnny didn’t see him the entire day other than a few glimpses here and there until night. Still, their days weren’t completely devoid of one another. There were featherlike touches ghosting on each other’s skin whenever the opportunity presented itself; gazes that lingered a heartbeat too long when they caught each other’s eyes. Whenever their breaks aligned, they’d step out and grab a quick bite to eat together before returning for more lessons and more work.

As the weeks went by, Johnny saw Ten less and less as Ten’s debut grew near. The cozy mornings he used to wake up to were now replaced by an empty space beside him as Ten came home later and later. Johnny had tried to stay awake at first. He intended to happily greet Ten, maybe talk a little before they went to bed together. But instead of the delight he had expected to see from Ten, all he got was an exhausted smile as Ten collapsed into his own bed, instantly falling fast asleep. Still, Johnny persisted only to get the same result a handful of times more before he finally gave up, heading to bed before Ten came home. Yet he couldn’t sleep until he heard that familiar creak of the door and soft footsteps across the floor.

“Sorry for always coming home late, hyung,” came a quiet whisper in Johnny’s ear.

That was nearly a week ago. Along with Ten’s apology came a kiss that Johnny had been waiting for for so long. _If only I turned around_ , Johnny signed to himself as he brushed his teeth, resigning himself to yet another lonely night. He had been in that state of not quite sleeping, yet not quite awake—the one where limbs and mind were locked still. Johnny had only realized what had happened when he awoke the morning after—hours after Ten had left.

The sound of the opening and closing of the front door followed by quiet chatter echoed down the hall caught his attention and Johnny stuck his head out, toothbrush in hand, hopeful that Ten had returned early for once.

“Oh? Hyung, you’re still awake?” Doyoung’s tired airy voice floated down the hall as he headed to his room.

Johnny nodded, “Yeah,” he replied around his toothbrush, looking for Ten. He was trailing just behind Doyoung with Taeyong at his side. Johnny frowned, mid-brush as he squinted at them. Ten had an arm wrapped around Taeyong’s shoulders as they grinned at each other, chatting about who knows what. The moment Ten had spotted Johnny, he dropped his arm from Taeyong, conversation long forgotten as he beamed at Johnny, skipping down the hall, pleased that he could catch Johnny awake for the first time in the past two weeks or so.

But Johnny couldn’t pull his eyes from Taeyong. _What were they talking about?_ Johnny pursed his lips before Ten caught his attention with a wave, scampering down the hall to drop his things off in their room before coming to the bathroom and squeezing in beside Johnny.

“Hi,” Ten grinned up at him, pulling the door shut and clicking the lock in place. Before Johnny had the time to greet him back, Ten had reached up and wrapped his arms around Johnny’s shoulders, trying to tug him down for a kiss.

“Wait,” Johnny held up a hand, “My mouth’s full of toothpaste.”

“Don’t care,” Ten impatiently yanked him down, tasting the minty fresh foam on Johnny’s mouth as he pressed up against Johnny. The kiss soon turned hungry and messy as Ten demanded more, his tongue hot and heavy against Johnny’s, delicate fingers gripping Johnny’s hair as he smeared the mixture of saliva and remnants of toothpaste together. _Knock knock_.

They both jumped at the sound of the door, whipping around to face it. “Johnny-hyung?” Jaehyung’s voice floated through, “Are you done yet? I need to brush my teeth.”

“Almost!” Johnny called out, shivering when he felt a set of lips on his neck. “W-wait. Let me finish brushing my teeth first,” he whispered at Ten, but Ten ignored him, kissing up along Johnny’s jaw to his ear instead.

“I can’t wait,” Ten murmured, hot breath tickling Johnny’s skin, “It’s been too long.” He grabbed Johnny’s hand, pressing it firmly against his crotch. Johnny choked, feeling the hardening cock through stiff denim. Ten forced Johnny’s hand in a circular motion, throwing his head back, lips parted in a silent moan. “I need you, Johnny,” Ten sighed out.

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Johnny breathed, teeth long forgotten about as he stalked Ten out the bathroom and back to their room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Ten wrapped himself around Johnny once more, impatient and needy as he tugged at the hem of Johnny’s shirt—a silent demand for him to strip. Johnny did as requested, quickly freeing himself from his clothes only to be yanked towards his bed next and hurriedly shoved down into a sitting position.

“It’s been two weeks,” Ten murmured, sinking down onto his knees between Johnny’s legs, _“Two whole weeks_.” Two weeks without Johnny, without so much as a kiss, not even a hug. The only thing there was were text messages and brief smiles before he was rushed off by his manager off to something else. There wasn’t even any time to relieve himself from all this pent-up sexual frustration, so seeing Johnny still awake had him more than excited.

Ten wrapped a hand around Johnny’s cock, giving a few lazy tugs, trailing kisses up along Johnny’s thighs and up along his shaft. “You don’t _know_ how much I’ve missed you,” he wrapped his lips around Johnny’s cock.

Johnny groaned, the sound rumbling long and low as wet heat engulfed him. Ten swirled his tongue around the tip, working his hand and mouth in unison as he pumped Johnny to full hardness before bobbing his head in earnest, ignoring his own gags and watery eyes as he took Johnny in. He needed Johnny—all of him, as much as he could fit, gag or no gag.

Johnny had worried at first, reaching out to try and slow Ten down only to have his hand swatted away as Ten continued to choke himself without a care in the world, drool dribbling down his chin. _What a mess,_ Johnny shuddered. Ten was a mess—a hot mess. Each bump of his cockhead against the back of Ten’s throat sent tremors running down his spine and when Ten moaned around his cock—

“So fucking _good_ ,” Johnny tried to muffle himself with his hand, conscious of all the others that they lived with, but with a sight like _that_ in front of him and the filthy sounds echoing through their room—frankly it was rather difficult.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better Ten popped his cock from his mouth, laying his tongue flat against Johnny, going from base to tip before the teasing that sensitive bit of skin underneath. It was almost all he could do to not scream, grabbing a pillow and holding it over his face, doubtful of his ability to stay quiet anymore. Soon, that familiar tingling in his hands and feet was beginning to build up, but instead of getting the release he had expected Ten had pulled away, quickly stopping just as fast as he began.

“W-why’d you stop?” Johnny panted out in a garbled whine, vision fuzzy and mind muddled as his orgasm began its painful retreat. He had been so _close_.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Now _that_ cleared up his mind. Johnny straightened up, his cock twitching as it swelled impossibly harder at the sound of Ten’s words. “You want me to what?” Johnny licked his lips, disbelieving his ears.

“I want you to fuck me,” Ten repeated, matter of factly. It was almost boring with how normal Ten made it sound, but Johnny’s cock said otherwise.

“Found it!” Ten triumphantly emerged from the drawer he had been searching from, chucking a bottle of lube and strip of foils at Johnny before stripping himself naked and reveling in the way Johnny’s eyes ran up and down his body. With a smirk, Ten sauntered towards Johnny, draping his arms on top of his shoulders before straddling Johnny’s lap.

“Hey you,” Ten grinned.

“Hey,” Johnny smiled back, letting Ten pull him in for a lazy, sloppy kiss. At Ten’s behest, Johnny obediently opened his mouth, shuddering as Ten’s tongue snaked in and entwined itself around his own. The shudder soon turned into a growl as Ten rolled his hips once then again and again—making sure to rub up against Johnny’s cock just right each time.

Those strangled sighs and choked pants were like music to Ten’s ears. Breaking the kiss, Ten leaned into Johnny’s ear, breath tickling Johnny’s skin. “I want you to fuck me,” he mewled into his ear, nipping that tender skin, “I want you to stretch my ass open and make me cry.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Johnny croaked out, hands scrambling around the bed as he groped around for the lube. With unsteady fingers, he managed to uncap the bottle and squeeze a generous amount out, coating his fingers in the cool cherry red substance.

“Hurry up,” Ten continued to whine into his ear, holding back a laugh when Johnny dropped the bottle. “I need your cock in me. I need it _now_.” It was only half a joke—just a bit of teasing to get Johnny worked up, but it was true that Ten was starting to grow impatient. 

Never in Johnny’s wildest dreams did he ever picture Ten like _this_ : flushed face, tousled hair—all shades of needy, desperate, and horny. All of this just for him. The thought sank down into Johnny, taking ahold of the wild heat that Ten had stoked within him, molding it into something for Johnny to wield instead. With coated fingers he reached down, spreading his cheeks apart with his other hand as he traced Ten’s entrance with feather like touches, delighting in the way Ten squirmed and clawed at his back.

“Hurry up,” Ten whined again, no longer fooling around anymore.

“Hurry what up?” Johnny purred, finger resting just on top of the puckered rim He was enjoying the mess Ten was turning into—enjoying how his name fell from those delicious lips of Ten’s, enjoying the way those nails dug into his back, enjoying the way Ten bit down on his shoulder when he finally pushed a finger in.  

It was tight—too tight. Johnny massaged Ten’s hips, trailing kisses along his neck, taking care not to leave any marks behind as he did so. Gradually, the clenched walls began to relax around his fingers and Johnny pushed in further, using a mix of circular motions and shallow thrusts to open Ten up, but it wasn’t enough for Ten.

 _“More_ ,” Ten demanded. It hurt, of course—being stretched hurt, but he needed _more._ More of Johnny, more of his fingers. More of this pain bleeding into pleasure, pleasure bleeding into pain—the reminder that _this_ , _this_ is what life is about: pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain; two sides of the same coin that made life worth living for.

He shuddered when he felt that second finger beginning to push its way in. “Kiss me,” Ten murmured, seeking out Johnny’s lips with his own. Sounds of shallow pants and soft kisses quietly echoed in their room as Johnny continued to stretch him—Ten’s sighs turning into a high-pitched moan as Johnny’s fingers brushed up against his prostate. A third finger went in and soon, Ten was an incomprehensible drooling mess.

“Fuck me already,” Ten whimpered, arms clutched tightly around Johnny, trying to pull hm further in even though their chests were already flushed against one another’s.

Instead of granting Ten’s wishes, Johnny continued at teasingly slow pace, keeping Ten just on the verge of going insane with want. “Do you really want me to fuck you?” he murmured into Ten’s ear, grinning as Ten quivered when his fingers brushed up against his prostate once again.

“Y-yes! Please!” Ten needed that intimacy—that feeling of unity, that oneness; that ultimate feeling of utter vulnerability and having somebody accepting the whole of him, flaws and all. That somebody— _his_ somebody—was Johnny. Only Johnny and nobody else.

“Why?” Johnny murmured into his ear, watching as Ten’s eyes fluttered shut, “Tell me why you want me to fuck you.”

Ten gnawed at his lower lip, quivering as the low hoarseness of Johnny’s voice sent shivers up and down his spine. “B-because I love you,” he sighed out, “I love you, Johnny.”

Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. The name was a mantra on his lips, a spell that held him together on the long sleepless days when his schedule was too heavy. Just a single glimpse of Johnny was enough to ease his worries for a few hours. A call from him, even longer. A kiss? The entire day. Sitting naked on Johnny’s lap, whining and begging for Johnny to just fuck him already? Ten could glide through the entire _week_ , no problem.

“Hmm,” Johnny purred in response, dragging along Ten’s walls as he pulled his fingers out. “How much?”

Ten shuddered, feeling empty without Johnny. “As much as you want,” Ten mewled at him, “I’ll love you as much as you want me to. I’ll do whatever you want me to. Just fuck me _please._ ”

Since when had he grown so needy? So weak? He had also been the stronger one of the two of them—the one that held Johnny up, not the other way around. But all those hours of endless back to back work—hours sitting through meetings, hours perfecting choreography, hours stuck in a recording studio, hours cramming his brain with Korean, more meetings, more dancing, more Korean—all of that and no Johnny? It was mind-numbingly _exhausting_. He had dearly missed their short-lived nightly ritual; his schedule had picked up almost immediately and it was all Ten could do to stay afloat, so when he saw that Johnny had still been awake when he came home, he had skipped down the hall with giddy joy. Now here he was, a docile mess begging for Johnny’s cock.

Johnny hummed in response, gently pushing Ten off him as he reached for the foiled packet, ripping it open and rolling the condom down as he stared at Ten. Swollen lips, glossy eyes. Heaving chest and a flush spreading down it.  Really, Johnny should be patting himself on the back for Ten’s current state of disarray. But- _goddamnit_. That scene of Ten’s arm around Taeyong flashed in his mind, clamping down on his satisfaction.

It was still fresh, playing itself in slo-mo, bits and pieces looping itself again and again. Ten happily grinning at Taeyong, leaning into him as he whispered something into Taeyong’s ear. Taeyong staring down at the floor, thumbnail between his teeth as he bit his nail while listening to what Ten had to say. The coy glance up before Taeyong cracked up, the distinct braying sound rolling down the hallway as he clapped Ten’s back in mirth. The even wider smile on Ten’s face, his eyes squinting up and the skin tugging on his cheeks as he grinned in pleasure at the success of his joke.

Then _that_. What was _that_ about? The moment Ten had spotted Johnny, he dropped his arm from Taeyong as he flew down the hall to greet Johnny, but Taeyong? A lingering smile followed by a puzzled expression as Taeyong stared at Ten’s back. A slight droop followed by a small smile as Taeyong noticed Johnny, giving Johnny a wave and nod in greeting.

Johnny bit down on his lip, trying to tamp down on the sudden spike of discontent as he coated himself with lube. Ten was here right in front of him, hand wrapped around his own cock as he begged and whined for Johnny to fuck him already. _See?_ It was only he—only Johnny who could turn Ten into a panting, whimpering wreck like this. Only him and nobody else.

 _Mine_.

The bed creaked and dipped as Johnny finally hauled himself on top of Ten. “Hurry up,” he demanded, eyes fluttering open as he impatiently jerked himself. “You’re taking too long!”

With a throaty chuckle, Johnny tugged Ten’s hand away and pinned it above his head along with his other arm. “What do you think you’re doing?” Johnny murmured against his lips, kissing them until Ten was a mewling, drooling mess once more. With a satisfied smirk, he let go of Ten’s arms and sat back on his heels, lining his cockhead up with his rim.

Ten braced himself, balling the bedsheets in his hands as Johnny pushed his way in. It was painful at first. Uncomfortable- the feeling of being stretched wide open and entered. But more than that was the electrifying sensation of being filled. The edges of his vision flicked as Johnny continued to push in inch by inch.

“ _Johnny_ ,” Ten breathed, brows furrowed together as he tried to adjust to Johnny’s size. “Johnny, kiss me.”

As requested, Johnny leaned down towards him, taking care not to jostle Ten as he waited for him to relax. It was unreal, feeling Ten’s walls coiled up tightly around him—almost as if he was trying to draw Johnny in further and further. Johnny kissed Ten, massaging his jaw with a free hand before slowly trailing his lips along Ten’s neck until he reached his ear.

“You’re so tight,” he murmured, groaning as Ten clenched around him in response. Gradually, Ten began to relax and Johnny gave a shallow thrust, earning him a small whimper. Encouraged, Johnny gave another thrust. And another. And another and soon, Ten had an arm over his mouth as he bit down on his forearm, trying to keep the screams from pouring out and alerting everyone in the house of the perverse behavior going on in their room.

The tingling building in his toes, the buzzing taking ahold of his head, the tightening heated coiling in his groin. Ten was getting _close_ and so was Johnny if those strangled grunts and bitten lip was anything to go by. “More,” Ten whimpered, “ _More._ Fuck me harder _please_.” He was hungry for that sweet release, hungry for Johnny’s cock buried inside of him, hungry for that delicious expression Johnny was sure to make when he came undone. He needed all of it and he needed it _now_.

With a growl, Johnny snapped his hips against Ten’s, no longer cognizant about the sounds of slick skin in echoing in their room. He wrapped his hand around Ten’s cock, jerking it in time to his thrusts. Within moments, Ten was screaming Johnny’s name, tears running down the corner of his eyes, thick spurts of white landing on his chest as he came. With a low grunt Johnny soon followed, fucking Ten as he rode out his orgasm before shakily collapsing on top of him, aftershocks riddling up his body.

As the high wore off, Johnny rolled off of Ten, flopping beside him for a moment before struggling off in search of something to clean themselves off with. Once they was all cleaned up, Johnny siddled back in bed beside him, enjoying how Ten immediately curled up around him of his own accord.

“I missed you,” he murmured to Ten, feeling a sleepy curve of a smile against his chest in response.

“Missed you too,” Ten’s voice was muffled. “Sorry I’ve been so busy lately.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny stroked Ten’s hair, admiring how it caught the glow of the moonlight. Ten may have been too busy for him the past few weeks, but this night more than made up for it. He had been waiting for Ten for _weeks_ just to have a bit of something—anything. A hug, a kiss. Maybe a short conversation if time allowed for it. This was much, much more than what Johnny had been expecting, so he was more than pleased to say the least. Yet there was still just a single matter that was on his mind. “Hey.”

“Hmm?” Ten drawled out after a long moment.

“What were you and Taeyong talking about?”

A long pause. “Me and Taeyong?” Ten drowsily asked. “Don’t remember.”

Johnny waited to see if Ten would say anything more, but the deep breaths of sleep filled up the silence instead, so Johnny let it go. After all, there was nothing to worry about. Ten was right here in his bed beside him, sleeping peacefully with Johnny’s arms wrapped tightly around him as they cuddled beneath the blankets. Who cares what they were talking about anymore? This was bliss—Johnny’s own personal heaven on earth. Nothing was going to ruin it. _Nothing_.

 _Mine. All mine_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title namesake: [kai straw - hurricane](https://open.spotify.com/track/5HPsichxlVsaV8GtkNYs2Z) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUrsceWIALM))  
> i first found this song a couple years ago and fell in love with it when i first heard it and thought it fit johnny perfectly. in a way he's a bit like a hurricane. kinda like a whirlwind of emotions really. i also appreciate the imagery and strength of the verses and how they each manage to convey a very specific emotion. anyway, i hope you guys do give the song a listen cause i really do adore it. i've also updated some of my previous chapters with songs i've pulled from if you're interested (ง •̀_•́)ง
> 
> come say hi!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)


	11. Paranoid

As quickly as Ten’s schedule picked up, it rapidly slowed to a temporary halt. All the whirlwind of the initial meetings about his new contract and new group were out of the way, the filming and recording for the music video and title track—all done. Now the only thing left for Ten to do was his usual lessons as he waited for the day of his debut. Light and easy as far as Ten was concerned.

But more than that was the looming elephant in the room that he and Johnny didn’t speak of—the day Ten was moving out of the trainee dorm and into a new one with the others. The date was still unspecified, but they both knew it was coming. Maybe a week, maybe a month. More, less, who knew? Ten would be moving out and then Johnny would be all alone in their room. After that, what then? What would become of them? Become of Johnny? Become of Ten? Neither of them wanted to think about it, didn’t want to speak of it so they maintained their charade instead, going on with life as if there wasn’t a care in the world. All there was was the here and now.

With time breathing down on their necks, Johnny happily indulged all of Ten’s whims agreeing to whatever it was that Ten wanted, whenever he wanted it. A movie or going out for food? Johnny would be dressed and ready to go within minutes. A massage? Johnny dropped whatever he was doing and did as bided. Wanted him to come to the dance practice with him even though he had just finished showering? Sure. Bring him some food or some coffee? No problem. As long as Ten was happy, Johnny was too.

“Johnny, we’re watching a movie! Join us!” Ten’s voice floated out, calling for him over a cacophony of noise.

Johnny had just returned to the dorms after Korean lessons, backpack full of books strapped to his back as he walked in. “Sure! What movie is it?” he looked about the living room for Ten trying to find him amongst the small crowd that had gathered in the living room. Ten was seated next to Doyoung on the smaller couch; the larger one was already preoccupied by some of the others.

“It’s a horror movie!” someone else replied. Jaehyun this time, seated on the floor next to Yuta and Taeyong. Drinks and open bags of chips were being passed amongst them as was a gigantic bowl of freshly popped popcorn. That savory scent sent Johnny’s mouth watering as he dropped his backpack onto the floor with a dull thud before squeezing in next to Ten.

“Hi,” Ten grinned up at him, giving Johnny’s knee a squeeze before turning back to Doyoung and carrying on with their conversation. Johnny waited as the popcorn went around, taking a giant handful of it and popping the artificial buttery piece into his mouth. _How long has it been since I last had popcorn_? he happily sighed to himself, reaching over to grab a blanket to wrap he and Ten with.

One by one, the lights flickered on and the room grew quiet as the movie started. Minutes ticked by as the story began to unfold on the screen—one of those atmospheric movies with an unseen creature that stoked terror into the audience through an intricate combination of greyed out cinematography and skin-tingling ambient noises. Each scene had the boys on the edge of their seats—some clinging onto each other, others peeking above clutched pillows. Luckily for Johnny Ten was a clinger, but so was Doyoung much to Johnny’s dismay.

Doyoung tightly gripped at Ten’s arms whenever the suspense was too much for him, ebony irises stark against the wide whites of his eyes despite the darkness, unable to tear his eyes away despite the unfolding horror. Then things would calm down momentarily and Doyoung would relax, letting go of Ten and folding his hands on his lap until the next terrifying scene. Every now and then, Johnny could hear quiet muttering from Doyoung. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this,” he griped, muffled voice reaching Johnny’s ears as Doyoung ducked behind Ten. It had been amusing at first seeing the normally touchy Doyoung reduced into pile of nervous wits, but that delight soon turned into grating annoyance as Doyoung continued to grab onto Ten.

Then there was Yuta seated on the floor in front of Ten, bumping into Ten’s legs every now and then as he cycled between clinging onto Taeyong or Jaehyun and hugging the pillow on his lap during the tenser parts of the movie, always sneaking a glance at the others and gauging their reactions first before reacting himself. Otherwise Yuta stayed slumped forward facing towards the screen, eyes darting around every now and then as he watched everybody else. At one point, Yuta had leaned back in a stretch catching Ten’s eyes as he did so and giving him a cheeky smile and a playful shudder of horror, squeezing Ten’s leg once before returning his gaze to the movie.

Johnny remained seated stiffly on the couch trying to tame his growing displeasure as the others continued to jostle Ten. He fought the urge to swat Doyoung’s arms away from Ten and drag his legs up onto the couch and away from Yuta. Any of that would be unreasonable—not to mention odd. The guys were behaving as they always had, vividly expressing themselves and finding comfort through touching one another—even Johnny did it too. It was just normal human behavior after all. Still, he felt particularly annoyed with it. Something about seeing them freely grab at Ten—not once, not twice, but multiple times—it bothered him.

When he could take it no longer, Johnny wrapped an arm around Ten’s shoulders, trying to casually pull him in as close as possible away from Doyoung. Ten leaned into Johnny in response, humming as he took comfort in Johnny’s presence.

 _There_ , Johnny smiled in satisfaction, _That’s better_.

The next time Johnny felt that thorn was when they went out to eat only a few days after the movie incident. They were at a restaurant—if you could call It that. If anything, it was more like a food shack—one of those many places with metal tables and flimsy plastic stools on the outside, full ash trays on every single surface, a boisterous red-faced crowd late at night, unhappy waitresses that would only stare and grunt instead of talk. The sanitation was questionable, but the food was mouth-watering and the dishes were cheap. It was a place where people went to when they wanted to lose themselves in alcohol and good food, away from the stresses of life.

“This place is really good,” Jaehyun sat down beside Ten, scanning the sparse cardboard menu. On it was only a few specials—dishes meant to get rid of excess stock as quickly as possible, but the real gems were always the dishes that you found out either through word of mouth or simply trying your luck and getting something off menu.

“Oh? What are they known for?” Ten looked about, scooting forward to as Taeyong passed by behind him, taking the empty seat beside Ten. Jaehyun prattled off some dishes with Doyoung chiming in once or twice and soon, they had an array of piping hot food carefully balanced on their table. Vibrant orange-reds and rich deep greens wafting a mix of pungent acrid spice and mouth-wateringly savory meats sent all the boys salivating as they grabbed their bowls and dug in, reenergizing themselves after a brutal week of practice.

As Johnny silently chewed his food, he struggled to wrestle down the ire simmering within him. He had originally wanted to go out alone with Ten, but they ran into the others on the way out and Ten had invited them to tag along. That ire soon turned into a knotted ball of frustration, gnawing away at him with every single tasteless bite he took as he watched Taeyong and Jaehyun tend to Ten, piling food on his plate and occasionally feeding him. _I wanted to sit there_ , Johnny glared at them both. But it would have been petty of him to demand to sit next to Ten.

Johnny sighed as he felt curious eyes boring into him from Yuta’s direction—always the observer of any change in anyone whether obvious or not. Begrudgingly, he painted on a placid face, slipping on the persona of his usual goofy jokester as tried to deflect Yuta’s attention and anyone else who may pick up on his apathetic ingenuity.

By the time they had returned to their dorms, his anger had turned into a base level of irritation. One push and Johnny was sure to snap—overreact to whatever it was that provoked him so. _Why did Ten invite them anyway_? he grumbled as he set his things down in their room. Was his company not good enough for Ten? Did Ten need the others to entertain him? Did they have something that Johnny didn’t have?

The door open and shut as Ten walked in, happily flopping on his bed, stuffed full of delicious food. “That was sooo good,” he sighed, struggling to pull the socks from his feet, “We should go again one day.”

“Yeah,” Johnny grunted out, searching his drawers for a clean t-shirt and comfortable shorts. It was creeping up on him again, that old familiar nagging of discomfort. _Why now of all times?_ Who knew how much longer Ten was going to be around? Johnny wanted to enjoy it as much as he could while he could, but here it was—his own worst enemy, back again after hiding away for the past couple of weeks.

Ten picked up his head as he stared at Johnny for a long moment. Usually Johnny would be all over him by now, but he wasn’t. “Is something wrong?” he sat up at the edge of his bed.

“No,” Johnny quickly replied. Too quickly. He heard a sigh behind him as Ten hauled himself off the bed, stepping across the floor and wrapping his arms around Johnny. Instantly, Johnny’s previous irritation melted away.

“What’s wrong?” Ten murmured into his back. He had seen a brief flash of annoyance earlier, but he figured he was just seeing things when Johnny started cracking jokes. Still, there was something forced about it and his suspicions were now confirmed.

“I-,“ Johnny swallowed once. “I just wanted to go out and eat with you alone. That’s all. I guess I got a bit jealous,” he bitterly chuckled.

“Jealous?” Ten turned Johnny around to face him, laughing as he reached up towards his face. “What’s there to be jealous about? I love you most,” he murmured onto Johnny’s lips, smiling into them as he kissed Johnny.

Johnny leaned into Ten, letting him pull him in further. As always, Ten’s lips were buttery soft to the touch and cloyingly sweet—a dizzying combination that left Johnny feeling weak in the knees each time. But this was soon to disappear—these arms and these lips. “I don’t want you to leave,” Jonny quietly murmured.

“I know,” Ten sadly smiled as he brushed Johnny’s hair from his face, “I don’t want to go either. But you know the others are moving out too. I thought it’d be nice for all of us to hang out at least once.”

It was true. Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Doyoung—they were all moving out soon along with Ten and Taeil. Johnny had completely forgotten about them; all his focus had been concentrated on Ten and Ten alone, but now that it had been pointed out to him Johnny felt a stab of guilt. He still had other friends who held him dear—friends who Johnny had celebrated successes and failures with over the past few years. His life wasn’t full of Ten alone.

“You’re right,” he quietly admitted, “It was nice eating out with them too. Thank you.”

“I’m always right,” Ten grinned up at him. “I could use some dessert though,” he pressed himself up against Johnny, making his double entendre crystal clear.

“Dessert I can help with,” Johnny grinned back at him, leaning down for a kiss.

As they laid in bed with both their stomachs and secular needs fulfilled, the storm within Johnny began to rumble again. His friends and Ten—they were leaving soon and what was Johnny doing? Dicking around as he wasted all his attention on Ten and nobody else. Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Yuta—they had been his sole lifeline the year Exo debuted, the year before Ten even entered the picture. They had been fresh faces, skittish deer caught in uncharted territory when they first joined. But Johnny had been there for them, patiently walking them through their first few weeks as he quietly clung onto them to distract himself from bitter disappointment.

Even after Ten had joined the fold the three still held a special place in Johnny’s heart, their place only growing as they pushed out his old friend and made a space for themselves. They had always been there for Johnny and Johnny had always been there for them, but now? Johnny’s stomach knotted as he realized it had been weeks since he last hung out with anyone else, let alone even _speak_ to someone else that wasn’t Ten. They had occasionally asked him to do something or another with them, but Johnny had rejected them each time preferring to wait for Ten rather than leave him alone by himself. Now that he thought about it, I had been a while since someone last invited him anywhere—likely due to his constant rejections as of late.

 _They don’t need me anyway_ , Johnny tried to futilely shield himself from the guilt eating away at him. But deep down inside, Johnny knew that that just wasn’t true. His friends cared for Johnny as much as he did for them. The current predicament was of Johnny’s own doing and his alone.

With a heavy sigh, Johnny covered his face with a hand as he centered himself with the soft rise and fall of Ten’s slumbering breaths. “It’s happening again,” he murmured to himself. He had thought that all this loathing would resolve itself the moment he finally gave into his desires and it did—for a few weeks anyway. But as it turned out, giving in was making him feel worse in ways he hadn’t imagined before. Instead of trapping himself in a corner with his own insecurities, he was strapped down by its mutant cousin—paranoid suspicion.

Every time single time that Ten left the house, the questions would trickle in one by one. Where was Ten going? With who? Doing what? When will he be home? Johnny needed to know but couldn’t bring himself to ask. Then the moment Ten was back Johnny would wrap his arms around him as he hid his true motives: smell. With just a few sniffs, Johnny could answer a few of his own questions. Everyone had their own cologne of choice so the who was easy enough. As for the where, cigarette smoke suggested stopping for a bite as did the faint scent of meat and grease on Ten’s breath while that unique staleness meant that Ten was out for a walk in the bright sunshine. All of these in addition to strategically asked questions painted a picture of Ten’s day in Johnny’s mind. Only then was he somewhat satisfied.

But as Johnny watched Ten sleeping in the faint moonlight with his eyes twitching behind closed lids as he softly snored, Johnny found himself questioning Ten.

Was it really Johnny that Ten adored? ~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title namesake: [lauv - paranoid](https://open.spotify.com/track/2wCVpdNSHjqIn2en8jAnF0) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atF2-onTR6M))
> 
> come say hi!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)


	12. Double Dark

It was storming once again. Engorged droplets noisily pelted down upon the street as mother nature made her force known to those residing below. So too was the sun, vying for attention through sweltering heat as nature tried to hide it with enormous slate grey clouds. Together they made an oppressive humidity coating everyone in a sheen of sweat the moment they stepped out. But the boys were in the safety of the cool practice room, rain far from their minds as the music blasting from the speakers overpowered its noise. They stomped to the beat, snapping their legs and arms to the music as they messed about, some practicing the same moves over and over again while others made up their own choreographies. After hours of practice, it was finally time to stretch before they went for food.

Johnny sat up from where he was collapsed on the floor, looking about for Ten as a stretching partner. But he was already with someone else. Taeyong. A surge of fury roared through Johnny as he watched Ten seated in a split, Taeyong leaning his body weight against Ten as he helped him out. For a moment, all Johnny could see white-hot as he sat frozen on the floor fixatedly watching. But Ten was flexible and needed more than just a push, so Taeyong adjusted himself—chest flushed with Ten’s back as he draped his legs on top of Ten’s knees to keep them from popping up off the floor.

Livid, Johnny gathered his belongings and stuffed them into his backpack, storming off and ignoring the curious stares from everybody else. His footsteps clanged through the hollow stairwell as he raced down the steps in an effort to avoid both his managers and the multitude of other people that worked in the building. Soon, he was out in the pouring rain ignoring the droplets that battered at his skin and soaked him. It felt good being thrashed like this—having his unceasing rage whipped out of him as he headed home, path dimly lit by streetlights.

Why was Ten stretching with Taeyong when he usually stretched with Johnny? Why hadn’t Ten just rejected Taeyong? Or worse yet, was Ten the one who had invited Taeyong to help him out? And if so, why? Did Ten like him more than Johnny? On and on his thoughts went, going down that spiral of uncontrollable jealousy—always the irrational beast and lawless annihilator.

Johnny arrived at the dorms and stood at the entrance for a moment as it continued to pour down upon him. Luckily for him though, the lights were all off in the house. No one would be there to question why he was sopping wet and why he had chosen to walk home instead of just asking a manager to drive him back. And if there had been anyone home to question him, he wasn’t so sure if he could quite keep his rage to himself.

Johnny yanked the door open, slamming it shut behind him. The hollow sound was satisfying as it echoed through the place, but it wasn’t enough. Johnny’s fingers were itching and he needed to break something—anything. He needed to feel that cathartic satisfaction of something snapping beneath his fist, but there wasn’t much to break in the house. Not much unless he wanted questions.

Questions. Questions, questions, questions. All there was from everyone were endless questions. Questions about a sudden outburst, questions about why he seemed less energetic than normal, questions about why he spent all his time locked up in his room lately. Couldn’t he just _do_ anything out of sheer rage just because he needed to? Why did he _always_ have to answer to one of the managers whenever something fell out of the norm? Couldn’t he just _be_?

And then there were the questions he asked himself whenever the opportunity arose for the malicious thoughts. Was it Johnny that Ten loved most or was it not? Did he have any interest in Taeyong? What about Doyoung? How about Jaehyun? All of them the embodiment of individual perfection while all Johnny was was a stingy ball of bitterness who couldn’t even reign his own jealousy under his control.

The worst part though was knowing how silly he was being. All of this was illogical. Irrational. And yet Johnny couldn’t dam the flood from tumbling forth. Each time Ten spoke to someone else, Johnny was immediately suspicious, quietly coming over and finding an excuse to butt his way into the conversation. If there was a caress, Johnny would zero in on it and debate its meaning, keeping the spot in mind to shower kisses and perhaps even mark up as his own later on. Wherever Ten went, Johnny stalked closely behind always keeping a watchful eye out. He had to keep vigil, lest he lose Ten—lose him to someone else.

“GODDAMNIT!!” Johnny screamed, the cracked sound bouncing off the walls as it resounded throughout the empty house. _Why is this happening to me?_ he sank down onto the floor, fury replaced by hot, angry tears as he sobbed on the floor. Paranoia, jealousy, suspicion—all one and the same. They had taken ahold of him, deeply rooted weeds feeding Johnny tiny spoonfuls of unease and worry and feasting off of the despair and rage they got in return.

“Johnny?” a tiny voice called out.

Quickly, Johnny swiped at his tears both trying to bury the evidence and see who it was that had discovered him. _Ten_. Johnny slumped back down, fresh tears running down his face. Ten was the person he wanted to see the most and the person he wanted to see the least. _Why, why, why? Stop, stop, stop,_ he willed his tears to go away but on and on it went.

“Johnny what’s wrong?” Ten reached out for him.

“Don’t touch me,” he choked out. That hand—that lovely precious hand. Lighter fuel to his rapidly shifting emotions within.

But Ten ignored his warnings, pausing for just a moment before he reached out once more. “Tell me what’s wro—”

“I SAID DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME GODDAMNIT!” he struck out his hand, arm catching the gigantic shoe rack. With a clatter and a thud, the rack tipped over as the shoes tumbled off the shelves in dull clunks across the floor.

Ten remained in a half crouch in front of Johnny, heart galloping at the sudden outburst. He had seen the way Johnny had stalked out of the practice room earlier, slamming the door shut behind him as he left. For a moment, all there was was bewildered silence in the as the guys exchanged silent glances with one another, worried about the sudden flip in behavior. Ten got up off the floor on wobbly legs, muscles struggling to recoil after being stretched out for so long. He had an inkling as to what it was that had enraged Johnny so, but he had hoped that he was wrong about it.

“I’ll go see what’s wrong,” Ten murmured to no one in particular. After that was just a blur as Ten somehow managed to gather his things and ask a manager whether Johnny got a ride home or not. All he could think of was the sudden chill in the air as he looked up to see Johnny seething at both he and Taeyong followed by Johnny leaving the room. Turns out Ten hadn’t taken Johnny’s jealousy seriously enough.

And why didn’t he? Ten saw the quiet fury each time Johnny caught him having fun with someone else, but Ten had shrugged it off merrily carrying along with what he was doing while Johnny continued to rut and fume. But eventually Ten would grow worn from the stormy silence, confronting Johnny about it back in their room. Still, Ten had been too quick to mollify his own worries with Johnny’s false easy-going answers, ignoring the issue at hand as he foolishly deflected Johnny’s fears by showering him with affection. A measly band aid for a festering wound. It was a mistake on his end. A huge one.

It was pitch black inside when Ten had finally arrived at the dorms. Not even the light was on in their room nor were Johnny’s shoes at the entryway. Concerned, Ten stood in their room debating between waiting for Johnny or grabbing an umbrella and looking for him instead. His decision was made for him instead by the slamming of the front door shortly followed by a scream and the sounds of sobbing. And now this: an inconsolable Johnny.

Turns out Ten’s suspicions were right.

Quietly, Ten hauled the rack back upright taking care to step around Johnny as he sat despondently on the floor, face buried in his hands. One by one Ten placed the shoes back on the shelf, trying to find each shoe’s twin and placing them back roughly where he thought they belonged. Minutes ticked by and soon the rack was full once more—the dent on its side and the slight disorder the only evidence of what had just occurred.

“Johnny,” Ten softly called him, “You should get changed. You’re all wet.” He also didn’t think that Johnny would like it very much if someone were to suddenly come home and see him sopping wet and sitting on the floor in a broken mess. Plus, Ten didn’t want to be the one explaining what was going on—not now anyway. Later, maybe.

Johnny finally unfolded himself, feet squelching in his shoes as he yanked them off, putting them neatly to the side before going to their room—a small apologetic gesture to Ten about his previous behavior. Ten held back a small smile as he followed Johnny down the hall.

With the door shut and locked behind them, Ten tentatively reached out towards Johnny, uncertainty turning into confidence when there was no reaction from him. Instead, there were slumped shoulders and downcast eyes as Johnny stared at the floor, wet bangs falling into his face: the picture of a lost little boy.

“Let’s get you out of those,” Ten gently helped Johnny out of his wet garmets, pushing him into the shower and laying out a change of clothes for him. When Johnny had finished he returned to their room, hovering in front of the door uncertain what to even do or say to Ten.

“Come here,” Ten patted the space on the bed beside him, “Let’s talk.” The scent of zesty citrus and a hint smoky oud rolled off of Johnny as he lumbered towards the bed, sinking down onto the mattress next to Ten. “Do you have something to say to me?” Ten cupped his face, turning Johnny to face him.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny mumbled with a raspy voice, still refusing to look at Ten. His throat felt raw from screaming earlier.

Puffy eyes, reddened nose, swollen lips—Johnny had definitely been upset Even the slightest sniffling led Ten to suspect that Johnny must’ve cried some more in the shower. Seeing him like this drummed up a pang in Ten’s chest, but he couldn’t simply ignore Johnny’s behavior once more. Dismissing it was what got them in this mess in the first place. “Sorry for what?” Ten tilted Johnny’s face once more.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny repeated, finally looking Ten in the eyes. “I’m sorry for yelling at you and losing my temper. I’m sorry for knocking the shoes over.”

Ten smiled as he smoothed Johnny’s cheek with his thumb. “Apology accepted. Now can you please tell me why you were angry in the first place?”

“I was jealous.”

“Of?” Ten prompted.

“Of you and Taeyong,” Johnny leaned into Ten’s hand as he mumbled his answer, embarrassed after everything that had happened. Although he had mentioned it in passing before, his jealousy had never been directly addressed like this. Nor had it ever gotten this bad before. It always remained in the realm within Johnny’s control, but lately the reins were growing taunt. They were sure to snap any time now and after that? Johnny didn’t want to think about it.

“Why?”

 _Why?_ Why had he been jealous of Ten and Taeyong? It was because they were _together_. But what was the problem with that? All they were doing was stretching—nothing that was unusual. They were some of the most flexible people amongst the bunch after all, so it made more sense for them to help each other out rather than Johnny. But seeing them like that stirred up old feelings and memories—those first inklings of jealousy back when they were rookies at the airport. They were there again when he had heard about Ten and Taeyong debuting in the same group without Johnny. And once more when Ten had come back to the dorms around Taeyong’s shoulders.

All of that had been normal—things that took place on the daily. Just the nature of the lives they had chosen to lead mixing together with their personalities and yet Johnny found himself getting jealous each time Taeyong was involved with Ten in some way or another. Johnny even found himself going crazy when it was somebody else, but no one ever got to him as much as Taeyong did. Why was that? It wasn’t as if Taeyong felt anything towards Ten— _or does he?_ Ahh. There it was. Pesky voice of doubt, invading and hijacking all his thoughts and causing trouble where trouble didn’t exist.

Did Taeyong feel anything for Ten? The answer was a resoundingly clear no. That almost awkward skittish behavior was simply Taeyong’s personality misconstrued by the devil of Johnny’s mind into something more sinister—a threat that he had to stay vigilant against. No. There was simply nothing special about Taeyong and Ten. Taeyong reacted the same way as he did with everybody else—sometimes the picture of absolute confidence as he joked with all the others and other times a jumpy mouse as he leaned away from any intimate touch. Then there was the child-like side—the almost naïve one with the tucked chin and wide-eyed stare as Taeyong watched the world go on around him, reacting to things with little jolts and squirms instead of using his words. That was simply how Taeyong had been right from the beginning ever since Johnny had known him.

“I guess my mind’s just playing tricks on me again,” Johnny gave a small smile. It was exhausting. All of this was exhausting, yet he couldn’t stop. Any time his mind was idle, all his thoughts would turn to Ten: what he was doing, where he was, who was he with. Before he knew it, his hands would be reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone, thumbs flying over the screen as it automatically typed a message out. Other times his legs would carry Johnny towards where Ten was for a glimpse instead.

There was also the mute restlessness when he was away from Ten for far too long. A churning itch that nagged at his mind insisting that Johnny do _something_. But he couldn’t do anything. Committing to any activity risked the possibility to losing even just a minute with Ten, so he sat waiting. Waiting and waiting and waiting while keeping himself entertained with thoughts of how to spend their time together afterwards, but lately they were spent rationalizing and battling away the paranoia and suspicion.

Ten wanted to sigh at Johnny’s non-answer, but he couldn’t. The stab of guilt made sure of that. How could he possibly be upset with Johnny when he was the reason for Johnny’s behavior? All he did was enable it after all—an unintended consequence of trying to comfort both himself and Johnny. What they were doing was precarious after all. One misstep and then it would be all over for the two of them. It was never something Ten cared much about before. The fantasy had always been just that—a fantasy. Besides, it was always Johnny’s job to be the worrier between the two of them, but at some point Johnny had stopped caring. Now it was up to Ten to deal with it.

“I wish I could help you with that,” Ten murmured after a moment as he pulled Johnny in for a massage.

Johnny sank against Ten as those slender fingers went to work, kneading away his stress and soothing any worries that lingered on. “You being here helps me.”

“You know I’d love to stay, but I’m leaving soon.”

Johnny tensed up, heart dropping into his stomach. _Leaving?_

Ten wrapped his arms around Johnny’s shoulders, tilting his head up to face him. “We have to talk about that too, you know. I’m moving out soon and living with others, including Taeyong. What are you going to do then?”

Johnny tried to drop his gaze, relief washed away by dread at being forced to address the main problem that Johnny had been fleeing from: how was he going to survive once Ten was gone? He didn’t want to think about it. It was too daunting. Horrifying. But it was coming and there was no escape.

“I don’t know,” Johnny admitted. He’d grown reliant on Ten to anchor him down over the past few months and sooner or later his anchor would be gone and then what? Would he lose himself in that stormy sea of self-loathing once more? But then again, did that even matter? He still lost his way even with Ten—diving head first into the eye of the storm called jealousy and suspicion instead of paddling away like he should’ve been.

Swimming eyes, gnawed bottom lip, clenched fists. Was being away from Ten that difficult for Johnny? Ten had hoped that something in Johnny would change over time—that he’d be less pessimistic, less gloomy. In a way, it did change. The only problem was that it morphed into paranoia instead. “You worry me, you know?” Ten leaned down for a kiss, “Sometimes I look at you and you feel so far away. Chasing after you is almost useless.”

“What do you mean by that?” Johnny searched Ten’s face, quiet tendrils of panic curling around him as they waited for their chance to strike.

“I just mean that no matter how I try to help you, it doesn’t work.” Ten had tried loving Johnny, had tried showing Johnny with his body, had tried using words. None of those seemed quite enough, so Ten turned to tackling the problem at its core instead. Clearly Johnny was fueling his problems with his own thoughts, so it was simply a matter of stopping, right? As it turned out, it was just a touch more complicated than that.

It was true that Johnny was feeding into his own issues, but what Ten hadn’t anticipated was Johnny’s dependency on it. Without the misery, Johnny was empty and so he reached for it time and time again, no matter how painful it got. Despair and Johnny—they were like two twisted peas in a pod with no room for Ten to come in between them. This was something Johnny had to solve for himself and not something Ten could help him with. And that—that was the worst part of his realization. That he simply couldn’t help Johnny.

“That’s not true,” Johnny protested as he turned around to face Ten. “You’ve helped me plenty.”

Ten shook his head. “No. I think I made you worse.” Insecurity and self-loathing—they were things that Johnny could get over eventually. But this kind of Johnny was going awry and taking him far off the path. All of Johnny’s previous issues still remained, but they took on the form of paranoia instead as they turned their attention to Ten and that wasn’t healthy for Johnny. But Ten—he was weak. Too weak. He should’ve nipped the problem in the bud when it first began a while ago. He should be cutting Johnny off before he got any worse. But Ten loved Johnny, and Johnny loved him back. Perhaps things could work itself, right? After all, that’s what all the movies and stories talk about—the power of love. Surely, it’d be fine?

“No. I’m better than I was before,” Johnny insisted. The panic was coming, creeping up as it wrapped its tendrils around Johnny and gripping him in place. Ten couldn’t be possibly thinking about leaving him, could he? He said he’d stay with Johnny. Ten wasn’t lying about that, was he? _No, no, no_. Ten had to stay with him. He couldn’t leave Johnny.

_This was dangerous._

“Are you sure about that?” Ten quietly chuckled, draping an arm over his face as Johnny desperately curled up around him. Yes, he should be cutting Johnny off—cutting them off, but he simply couldn’t do it. Johnny was as much as his horrid addiction as he was Johnny’s and the craving was strong. They were obsessed with one another, their habit disguised by the drug called love and like all addictions, it was difficult to quit. Ten shuddered as Johnny’s lips found its way to his neck, his touch injecting itself into Ten’s veins and overwhelming his senses.

“Yes,” Johnny murmured into Ten’s ear as he kissed it, earning him a sigh. See? Ten couldn’t possibly leave him. He wasn’t allowed to. Johnny would keep him right here with him. “You told me to feel, not think. Remember?”

 _Dangerous_.

“Yeah, I did tell you that,” Ten groaned as he felt Johnny’s hand over his clothed cock, massaging it in achingly slow circles as he continued to tease his neck and ears. This was the last chance. He had to leave Johnny—leave him now or face the consequences of his own weakness. He was supposed to be the stronger one of the two—the anchor, the rock, the lighthouse in the dark. So why couldn’t he just do it? It was an easy thing to do, pushing Johnny off him. The words were simple enough as well and yet-

“Are you feeling and not thinking now?” Ten murmured as Johnny slipped his hand beneath the waistband. Johnny obediently nodded a yes as he wrapped his hand around Ten’s cock.

Fuck it. Leaving or staying, trying to help Johnny help himself, trying to rescue them both from drowning—fuck It all. The world could go fuck itself and burn to the ground. All this fretting about a future that hasn’t taken place and the consequences that hadn’t even occurred—it just wasn’t what Ten was like. Worrying was Johnny’s job. Ten did things as he pleased, repercussions of his actions only a brief consideration before he dove into things. They were to be dealt with after the fact and only then. Ten locked eyes with Johnny, ignoring the sirens going off as he licked his lips. “Prove it to me.”

With that, Johnny pressed his weight against Ten as he drowned out his senses with Ten’s taste, shoving his tongue into Ten’s mouth and jerking him in time to the slide of their tongues. Ten—he was going to stay and Johnny was going to make sure of it. The first step was to stop thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title namesake: [wildhood - double dark](https://open.spotify.com/track/2sDUs5X0gUndCqJyrxk9tt) ([yt](https://youtu.be/ysQsU6xsteo))
> 
> come say hi!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)


	13. Drug Me Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took the longest to write, or rather the most effort cause it went through 3-4 different versions before i finally settled down on this. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy it because i'm extremely pleased with how it came out 💚
> 
> oh yeah and if you're confused i did change my username on ao3 cause i wanted to make a [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation) and a [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation) with a matching name so yeah!

The only sounds to be heard in the house were the quiet smack of lips against skin and muffled groans as Johnny kissed down along Ten’s body. Those pants and grunts pouring from those precious lips melting into mewls and moans were exactly what he wanted. Each sound fed the fever building inside of him, desperation stoking each movement as he pleasured Ten however he could. Johnny was going to make him stay and what better way to do that then to use his body to give Ten a good reason not to leave? So down he went kissing, licking, biting, nipping that honey golden skin; teasing and playing until those stubborn moans finally broke down into begging.

Victorious, he wasted no time wrapping his lips around Ten’s cock, sinking down until his nose was pressed flat against warm skin. He held himself there for a moment as he fought back a gag, drool pooling in his mouth and dribbling out the corners, smirking as Ten writhed beneath him. Yes, this was the way to do it. Hook Ten in, inject his touch, flood Ten’s senses with nothing but bliss, drown out all of Ten’s thoughts one by one until all that was left was nothing but Johnny. Then there’d be no way Ten could even think about anybody else, let alone leaving Johnny. Everything would be fine as long as he gave Ten everything he had.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ten gritted out as Johnny came up for air.

“You like?” Johnny grinned as he wrapped a hand around Ten. The easy glide around the spit laden cock soon had Ten twitching and jerking in time with Johnny’s movements as he groaned Johnny’s name out with each flick of wrist. _See?_ _No one else can do this_. Taeyong, Doyoung, Jaehyun—any of the others—no one else would love Ten as much as Johnny did. No one else knew how to tease Ten just right, pushing the buttons one by one in just the right order until _fwoosh_ —an explosion of ecstasy that would have Ten screaming his name as pleasure came wave after wave after wave.

He took Ten into his mouth once more keeping his lips wrapped around the cockhead as his hand continued up and down, tongue swirling around the tip before pressing flat against the underside—just how Ten liked it. Within minutes, Ten was but a mewling mess, voice bouncing off the walls as he begged Johnny to let him cum. But instead of granting Ten that sweet release he so desired, Johnny wrapped his fingers around the base and earned himself a frustrated groan silenced only by Johnny’s hand clapping around Ten’s mouth.

“Shh. You’re too loud,” Johnny smirked at Ten’s shudder as he ran his other hand along Ten’s cock. No one was home still, but it was risky either way. Someone could come home early slipping in silently while he and Ten were completely lost in each other. Or they could all be back at once, freezing in the hallway at the lewd sounds coming from their room, a manager knocking on their door or worse yet, finding a key to unlock it with. The danger of being caught was almost delicious, but the longer Johnny went on tormenting Ten the more it felt like a pretense rather than an actual threat—a worry that was forced upon him; not something he actually cared about.

If they got caught now, it was likely the two of them would be forced out of the company but then? _Ten and I would be free_. There wouldn’t be any managers hounding them about every single little thing they did, no image nor group members to be considerate of. All the long hours spent slaving away practicing dance and vocals would be gone. So too would be the hours spent having his hair done, needing to take care of his skin, having to watch what he ate, making sure he exercised just enough. All of that gone— _poof_. He and Ten would be utterly free and then-

Johnny waited until the panting slowed down before he sucked Ten off again quickly bringing him to the edge once more. But Johnny still had no plants to give Ten what he craved most. Not yet. Ten needed to know what he’d be losing if he tried to leave. He needed to know that Johnny was the only one for him. Johnny was going to etch his mark into Ten’s skin—sear it in so no amount of scrubbing would ever get rid of Johnny’s touch off his body. Take ahold of his mind so all he saw was Johnny behind closed lids, Johnny as he fell asleep, Johnny when he needed a release. Reach into his soul and make it yearn and long for Johnny, make him come to Johnny whether he wanted to or not. All of Ten would be tainted with Johnny just as Johnny was infected with Ten.

Yes. If they got caught now, Ten would be free for Johnny to take. The thought was so tempting that for a wild moment Johnny debated the logistics of it. The very first thing would be taking care of Ten. He’d be extremely upset after coming so close to fulfilling his dream and having it snatched away from him, but Johnny would be there to help him out. He’d probably be upset with Johnny for getting them into this mess in the first place too, but Ten would come to see reason and forgive him sooner or later. In the meantime, Johnny would need to find a job. That seemed easy enough considering he was fluent in both Korean and English. They would also need a place to live in, learn how to cook, tell their families the news and more, but eventually it’d work out. Yes, it could work out.

Johnny gazed up at Ten’s thrashing form, smiling in satisfaction as he denied Ten for the third time. Ten was a sight to behold: bangs plastered to his forehead as a bead of sweat ran down, flushed cheeks and chest that would deepen into crimson each time Ten was close, those beautiful inky pools reduced to a glassy unfocused gaze. The picture of mindless euphoria. But Johnny wasn’t done yet.

The bed dipped and creaked as Johnny crawled up next to Ten. It too was in as much a disarray as Ten was. Bare mattress peeked out form a corner, exposed from Ten tugging at the sheets while the once neatly laid comforter now sat in a heap hanging off the bed. Even the pillows were damp no thanks to a combination of muffled screaming and mindless drooling. Johnny hummed in satisfaction as he took a moment to straighten out the bed around Ten.

Johnny laid down beside him, one leg draped over Ten’s while he tugged at Ten’s waist. “What about me?” Johnny purred into Ten’s ears.

Ten shivered at the arm snaking around his waist gently insisting that he turned onto his side to face Johnny. “W-what about you?” he tried to frown at that smirk tugging on those dumb pouty lips. He knew exactly what it was that Johnny meant, but he wasn’t going to give into him—especially not after the little stunt that Johnny just pulled on him. The dull radiating ache that was starting up in his groin made sure of that.

“Aren’t you going to please me too?” Johnny prompted while maintaining an all too innocent look painted onto his face as Ten shook his head no. It wasn’t the answer that Johnny wanted of course, but that didn’t matter. This was much more entertaining. A game. How far could he push Ten until he finally broke and gave Johnny what he wanted out of his own accord? “Why not?” he questioned.

“You won’t even let me cum.” But instead of the irritated tone that Ten was aiming for, it was more like a needy whine as Johnny latched his lips onto his neck. Even the usual glare of displeasure fell flat as Johnny broke out into a shit-eating grin.

“Hmm? Is that why?”

Ten nodded, futilely willing a shudder away. He had his pride and dignity to hold onto and no amount of Johnny’s teasing could make him crack. Nope. He was not going to cave in to Johnny’s provocations. Yet-

“Well. That’s a pity. I guess I’ll just have to please myself.”

“What…?” Ten propped himself up onto his elbows as he stared at Johnny in disbelief. With an all too serene look on his face, Johnny leisurely stripped himself naked feeling the soft drag of cotton against skin before dropping both his shirt and pants onto the floor. Johnny settled back into bed, hand over the outline of his straining cock as he dragged his fingers up and down, hissing at the friction from the cloth.

“God,” Johnny let his eyes flutter shut as pleasure flooded through his veins. The sudden burst of electricity was almost overwhelming after spending the past half hour with his cock straining untouched in his pants. It was all he could do to keep himself from pulling his boxers down too, but patience. He had to be patient first. “I want your lips around me,” he reached inside. “It feels so good when you suck my cock. And your tongue-“ Johnny groaned at the contact.

Up until now, Ten never really thought about what Johnny did to relieve himself and what Ten saw now… his cock stirred at the sight. Ten had an idea of what went on of course but seeing it for himself was something else entirely: Johnny on his back with his brows furrowed up in an arch, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he twitched. Then there were the low sighs escaping every now and then. Sighs that Ten could turn into rumbling grunts with just a touch and with the way Johnny was looking- Ten licked his lips. Sucking Johnny off was just one of his favorite things to do. Being on his knees and watching Johnny’s self-control crumble was hot enough, but the moment Johnny gripped those large hands into his hair? It was a silent demand for Ten to let Johnny fuck his mouth. A demand that Ten obliged him each and every single time, satisfaction at unleashing the beast overwhelming the discomfort of gagging. The only thing better than that was having Johnny in him. Now that was real control.

Another twitch and Johnny was shoving his boxers off, Ten long forgotten about as he chucked the offensive cloth across the room. Ten watched for only a moment longer before swallowing his pride and swatting Johnny’s hand aside. “You mother fucker,” was the only thing Ten murmured before wrapping his lips around Johnny’s cock.

He and Ten—they could be like this the rest of their lives, couldn’t they? A house, a job, some food. That was all they would need really. The first few months would be rocky of course. Johnny never had to find a job or rent a home before; their company took care of both of those and then some. How much did rent cost anyway? Food was expensive too. Both he and Ten ate a lot and their ability to cook was subpar at best. Then there was the matter of getting a job. Could he even get a job? The news of he and Ten being kicked out of the company was sure to follow them like a plague—a lifelong stain that they couldn’t get rid of. It’d be there coloring the rest of their lives and everything they did. No. No. Maybe things wouldn’t work themselves out after all.

Just what was Johnny doing even considering such a ridiculous idea in the first place? He was doing it again—walking the lands of self-sabotage. _This is dangerous_. Somewhere along the way his usual despair had mutated into something more sinister. Malicious. Borderline questionable. His feelings for Ten were becoming a twisted obsession fueled by the fear of him leaving. It had Johnny falling deeper and deeper as he clawed for that high called love, but Johnny was slipping. Slipping, sinking, drowning. Down he went as he yanked himself further into that sea of misery. If he hit the bottom, there’d be no turning back. Not unless he stemmed that flow of jealousy, reeled back the possessiveness. Stop letting his thoughts feed his own problems. But how?

Johnny groaned at the wet heat engulfing him—a gratifying reward after a battle of patience—however, it was short lived. Johnny soon found himself quickly growing impatient; he had spent far too long denying himself all in the name of reminding Ten what being with Johnny meant, but that took too much out of him. All of that careful adjustment to suit Ten’s needs perfectly while balancing it with his own agenda took enough brain power. Trying to ignore his own throbbing boner as he did so? Downright unpleasant. Painful even. Sex was supposed to be primal. Impulsive. All this planning, this scheming—it was getting in the way of feeling.

But feeling… feeling was dangerous too. It was flooding his senses right now hijacking reason and logic, the only gatekeepers to morality—the dutiful ones that kept Johnny from losing complete control. The pain from loving Ten was beyond excruciating compared to what Johnny was without him, but the return he had gotten from it was a thousand times better than anything he had ever felt in his life. He tried to avoid it at first. He could smell the threat wafting off of Ten, taste the acrid risk on his lips, feel the foreboding rushing through his veins—all of these a warning sign, an instinct for survival. But slowly, slowly—as all addictions begin—Johnny fell.

Ten only managed to get a few bobs of his head in before Johnny was pushing him off the bed and onto the floor. That was all Johnny had to do before Ten figured out what it was Johnny wanted. About time too. That point was here now—the one where Johnny’s tenderheartedness flipped into sudden carelessness. Now the real fun would begin. Johnny would demand and take what he wanted ignoring any of Ten’s needs unless it suited him. Pick Ten up, shove him around, yank at his limbs and hair, bend him into certain positions. Ten absolutely loved it—loved the disregard for his comfort, the barbarity in all of Johnny’s movements. Nothing else excited Ten more than seeing that crumble of self-control—that feral look in those eyes as Johnny caved into lust.

Sounds of Ten slurping and choking around his cock—they were music to Johnny’s ears. Each thrust grew slicker than the last as saliva continued pooling in Ten’s mouth, spit leaking out and dribbling down his chin. Even the flushed cheeks and glassy eyes was a sight to behold as Ten continued staring up at him, straining to keep up with Johnny’s relentless pace. Each hiccup sent delicious shivers down his spine and each delightful garble stroked the growing coil in his groin as Johnny lost himself in fucking Ten’s mouth. On and on he went indulging in every single sensation until he went just a tad too far.

“Oh my god. Are you okay?” Johnny’s stupor broke as he pulled his cock out. Ten doubled over with a loud gag, saliva puddling onto the floor as he panted and tried to catch his breath. _Shit_. He hadn’t been paying attention to Ten in the past couple of minutes losing himself in the rush thrumming in his veins. “I’m sorry,” Johnny knelt beside him massaging circles on his back as he waited for Ten to recover.

Gradually, the flashes of sparks and splotches of color began to fade as Ten gasped for air, struggling to breathe around the buildup of mucus. He could’ve kept going on. In fact, he would’ve if not for his damned gag reflect getting in the way. But never mind that. It just simply meant that Johnny would be more docile for him to play with. “You’re so rough,” Ten choked out as he reached for Johnny’s hand.

Johnny gave him a sheepish smile as he helped Ten up. “Sorry. I kinda lost myself there.”

“I know you did,” Ten murmured into Johnny’s lips as he cupped Johnny’s face, “I love it. I love it when you lose yourself.”

Hot, wet, and sticky. That was all Johnny felt as Ten snaked his tongue in, smearing saliva against Johnny’s face. Yes. Ten was Johnny’s drug of choice and his addiction was a synonym for obsession. _This is dangerous_. Johnny had to stop, had to be the one pulling them out of their habit because Ten couldn’t do it for them. Ten’s high was from watching Johnny drown—watching him sink further and further into infatuation and paranoia. But Johnny didn’t blame Ten. He was as much a victim of Johnny as Johnny was his. After all, he dragged Ten down with him and pulled them into the depths of crazed desire. They were each other’s insidious anchor sinking down and down. Johnny had to be the one to let go—to save them both before there was no return, but it was slipping. Logic and reason were being pushed aside by lust as Ten blindly reached into a drawer and found a bottle of lube, uncapping it and coating his fingers with the cherry red fluid, reaching between his legs to stretch himself as he forced Johnny back to watch him.

Trying to find the right position was a bit of a struggle at first. Usually Johnny was the one who opened him up, but Ten soon found a comfortable enough angle. One finger turned to two and Ten was panting with both pleasure and effort as he struggled to keep himself upright, legs quivering and arms straining as he remained on all fours. But then- Ten keened at the sudden jolt of electricity heading straight to his cock as his fingers brushed up against spongey tissue. His prostate. He knew where it was of course—Johnny helped him with that one—but finding it for himself was different.

Some movement caught Ten’s eyes and he looked up to see Johnny’s hand wrapped around his cock, eyes intently focused on Ten as he slowly stroked himself. Ten felt his cheeks flush from embarrassment, yet that plush lip between Johnny’s teeth and that hazy gaze kept him going. Holding Johnny’s stare, Ten pressed down on his prostate again as he let out a moan, satisfying himself with the little flick of pink from Johnny’s tongue and darkened eyes. So Ten did it again. And again. And again. Soon, Ten had three fingers in him, eyes squeezed shut as that familiar buzzing in his limbs began to take hold. But he couldn’t cum just yet no matter how badly he wanted to—especially when Johnny did nothing but deny him earlier. No. He needed Johnny’s cock in him and he needed it _now_.

“Fuck me,” Ten huffed as he ran his tongue along parched lips. But Johnny stayed where he was, hand still lazily working on his cock as he enjoyed the sight before him. Ten groaned in frustration. If he pulled his fingers out of his ass right now and jerked himself, he was sure to cum in less than a minute. Maybe he could adjust his position instead—use something else to prop himself up while he fingered his ass with one hand and stroked his cock with the other. The idea was almost tempting, but anything Ten did for himself was no match for Johnny’s touch. Nothing else would give him the same high. “Johnny _please_.”

With that, Johnny dropped his façade as he shoved himself off the bed and lumbered towards him, all but throwing Ten onto the bed as he pinned Ten down onto his belly, yanking Ten’s hips up and unceremoniously shoving his cock in. Ten hissed at the suddenness of it all. The feeling of being stuffed full, the hand digging into his hip, the other hand shoving his head down into the mattress—all of that had him clutching the sheets and screaming Johnny’s name as Johnny snapped his hips against him. But it wasn’t enough.

“Harder. _More_ ,” came the muffled demand from Ten. He was completely blissed out as Johnny complied, leaning his weight against Ten as he slammed his way in. Ten was getting close—so close, but he needed more. More of Johnny. More of that cock in him. He wanted to be filled up with all of Johnny—as much as possible. “More. _More_. I want _all_ of you in me.”

Johnny let out a low growl as he let go of both Ten’s hips and head, wrapping one arm around Ten’s neck and torso instead while the other snaked around his cock. Johnny was getting close too. Ten could feel it in the desperate thrusts and the slightly too tight of a hold on his neck. More. Ten needed _more_. He clamped down around Johnny’s cock and soon, Johnny was sinking his teeth onto Ten’s shoulder, screams escaping around the sides as he buried himself deep into inside Ten riding out wave after wave of pleasure.

Yes, that’s it. That’s it. This was exactly what Ten wanted. Just a little bit more and- Ten shuddered once at the feeling of warmth spreading within his ass before he too was shouting Johnny’s name—all thoughts washed out and replaced with nothing but Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.

For a long moment they laid collapsed in a heap, panting as they basked in the afterglow and each other’s presence before Johnny finally rolled himself off of Ten. Ten stirred beside him, curling up against Johnny and kissing his chest once before laying his head down upon it. Listening to the sound of Johnny’s heart, no doubt. Johnny quietly smiled at the gesture, scratching long strokes up and down Ten’s back, heart twirling as Ten nuzzled closer. But slowly, gradually, the smile began to fade.

He and Ten— _can we really go on like this?_ Could Johnny go on like this? Go on being jealous about the people Ten spoke to, go on letting it eat away at him inside, go on having sex with Ten only to repeat the cycle all over again? Could he really do it? Johnny felt a hand on his cheek tugging at it as Ten leaned in for a kiss. Soft. Sweet. Buttery. The very last thing people would ever associate with Ten given his looks and his personality. Yet it was there too—a more tender side. A side only Johnny knew. A side only Ten let him see.

“I love you,” Ten smiled down at Johnny as he smoothed his brow.

Johnny gazed up at Ten, heart sinking down at those wonderful inky pools. His favorite part of Ten. There was a soft twinkle in them—a quiet little dance—a rare sight that only ever appeared when Ten was radiating with tranquil contentment. Even those sardonic lips of his had curved into gentle smile. But those eyes- The sharp cat-like lines began to blur as tears began to well up. Could they go on like this? _No_ , a tear slid down Johnny’s face, _no we can’t._

“I love you too,” Johnny murmured into Ten’s lips as he cemented the taste of Ten in his mind one last time. “I love you so much, but I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.”

With that, Johnny left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, kudos and comments are deeply appreciated! i'd love to know what you guys think of my story so far and if you have any feedback for me ( ´▽` ) also, come say hi to me!   
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)
> 
> title namesake: [zolita - drug me now](https://open.spotify.com/track/4qPE5jzs1zyqUaw4MDACUk) ([yt](https://youtu.be/KJXPJgXXPfI))


	14. Oil and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Call it a necessary evil_  
>  Breaking your heart's the only way we might survive
> 
>  
> 
> \-- Oil and Water by Rationale

_It’s cold_. Johnny groped around for his blanket, but his fingers only brushed against a cold, hard surface instead. _Strange_. Even his mattress didn’t feel like his own; it didn’t sink and hug around his body like it usually did nor was his pillow exactly comfortable. He cracked one eye open then the other, blinking as he tried to make sense of the darkened room around him. It was a vaguely familiar place, yet he couldn’t quite make out where he was. _The floor_? Johnny stared at the long wooden planks. Just what was he doing on the floor of all places? Did he fall asleep in the living room? But there were couches there and that would’ve been far more comfortable, not to mention the fact that they had a gigantic plush rug in there. Plus, his room was just down the hall so why would he have fallen asleep there when he had a perfectly comfortable bed?

With a groan, Johnny heaved himself upright into a seated slouch, muscles and joints protesting each movement he made. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable sleeping on the floor. He glanced around as best he could without moving too much; his neck was stiff and disagreed with any turn he tried to make. Slowly, the shadows and lines came together to make the picture of one of the smaller practice rooms that Johnny didn’t often see. But why was he here…?

 _Training?_ But they wouldn’t have practiced here. The room was far too small to accommodate all the boys during lessons and rarely did he ever seek out a different room to dance by himself. _So then what?_ Johnny gently rocked his head from side to side as he stretched the taut muscles. He had to have had lessons, which meant that he probably went out to eat with Ten afterward, right? They usually did that unless Ten had schedules of his own, but he was pretty sure that Ten was free for the week. _Did we go out yesterday? Wasn’t it raining…?_

“Oh,” Johnny whispered. “Oh no.” **_That’s_** why.

“Fuck,” he balled his hands into fists. “Fuck. _Fuck_. **_FUCK!!!!_** ” he howled, echo ringing loudly in his ears as he broke down into sobs.

He and Ten, they did not go out to eat yesterday. In fact, they did not go out after practice at all. What did happen was that he shamefully stormed off in a fit of jealousy at the end of practice, rage overriding prudence. Surely by now, the others would be gossiping about his sudden behavior—maybe even let one of their managers know out of concern, but that was the least of his worries now. The only thing on his mind was Ten.

“Ten. _Ten_ ,” Johnny hunched over, hot tears dripping down his face, “Why did I do that??” And why did he? He loved Ten after all. He did. He could still perfectly remember how it felt like when Ten had told him he loved him that very first time, believing that it was just some dream that he was having when he first awoke. But one look at Ten’s face the following morning told Johnny everything he needed to know. After that it was truly as if he were dreaming, drifting off in the warmth of Ten’s words. Off Johnny went, spinning and tumbling in the purest, simplest joy he had ever felt in his life. All his worries and concerns were washed away and he had clarity for the first time—a calmness, a tranquility as his voice of doubt was silenced. Peace at last. It was so absolute that even now Johnny could feel it nestled safely deep within despite the choking sobs that wracked him now.

 _Cold,_ Johnny hugged his knees in as he began to shiver. He was all alone now. He was well and truly all alone now—his deepest fear finally showing its hideous face. The worst thing about it was that Johnny had no one to blame but himself. _He_ was the sole reason for this.

“Why??” Johnny repeated. He just wanted to be happy. That was all. That was all he wanted. Simple, wasn’t it? But all he ever got was disappointment—disappointment when Exo debuted and disappointment when NCT was announced. Yet Ten—Ten was his happiness and the only thing that kept him going after all that, especially these days. The rest of life was just too hard now. Trying was just too hard. All his efforts the past several years were nothing but a giant waste. Life was nothing but a giant waste. But Ten—Ten was alive and shining more brilliantly than ever before and Johnny found himself chasing after him hoping to catch just a bit of that spark—that _life_. But now?

Johnny quivered harder, hands clutching at the sleeves of his t-shirt. He turned around, grabbed his jacket, and put it on, but it didn’t help much. _Cold. So cold_. Why did he have to say that to Ten? Why did he leave Ten like that? He didn’t have to—didn’t need to. He could’ve just left the matter alone and stayed with Ten. He could’ve cuddled Ten and gone to sleep instead. He could’ve even just talked to Ten about all that was going on in his head. Ten would’ve listened. Ten would’ve cared. Johnny could’ve done anything else—literally _anything else_ other than just leave like that. Then he wouldn’t be here in this dance studio.

Maybe if he went back to Ten right this instant Ten would take him back and forgive him for his rash words. _“I wasn’t thinking straight,”_ he could explain, _“I was just scared of you leaving me. I was overwhelmed about what I’d do once you move out. I’m sorry.”_ If that didn’t work, he’d try again with more regret instead of sincerity and if that didn’t work, well, he could keep going—keep explaining and explaining, trying and trying until Ten finally took him back. Tell Ten he’d change his ways—become a better Johnny, a kinder Johnny, a more generous Johnny. A Johnny that didn’t get jealous of others. A person that Ten deserved rather than this ball of despair and deprecation. He’d forgive Johnny then, wouldn’t he? He’d take Johnny back, wouldn’t he? He loved Johnny after all, didn’t he?

“No,” Johnny clutched his head. “No, no, no, no, no. Stop it, Johnny. **Stop**.” _This_ was exactly why he left Ten last night. This mania, this hysteria, this _madness_. It was taking a hold of him now—a worse drug than Ten ever was. Johnny had almost forgotten about it too, temporarily blinded by what he thought was love. But it was there—always there. The monster: Johnny himself. Everywhere Johnny went it stalked closely behind whispering words of doubt, feeding self-loathing, sowing contempt. Whatever bit of joy Johnny had found it would worm its way in and taint it, eat away at him until he was going insane and chasing away all that he held dear just to make it stop. And now this. Loneliness. Johnny felt his chest tighten.

He had lost his precious friends the moment that he caved in to his feelings for Ten—or more accurately, he shut them out. They didn’t bother inviting him to hang out anymore knowing that the answer was always going to be an excuse about something or another. However, what they didn’t know was his true reason for his sudden constant rejections. Both Doyoung and Yuta had confronted him about it on separate occasions, each convinced that he was upset because of NCT. He was, but that wasn’t the real reason why he never wanted to go out with them. It was Ten. He didn’t tell them that though; he just let them think he was disappointed about the lack of debut and that he just needed to be left alone.

These days however, they just didn’t talk. They couldn’t have. As the weeks went by, Johnny began locking himself up in his room more and more often until he was there waiting for Ten all day long instead of hanging out with the others in the living room. Even after lessons he preferred going out with Ten over anybody else and if Ten wasn’t available, he just waited instead. _But that’s not happening anymore_. He made sure of that last night. Johnny yanked at the collar of his t-shirt; it felt too tight all of the sudden. He was way too hot now as well and he couldn’t quite seem to catch his breath.

Even if he had gone back and tried to patch things up with Ten, there was no fixing it; no way to salvage things despite how much he wanted it. There was a multitude of reasons for that of course, but the biggest one was that look Ten had given him last night. That _look_. The moment those words left Johnny’s mouth he got up to leave, but he made the mistake of looking back at Ten just once and what he saw shattered him.

Johnny hunched over his legs as he stared down at the ground. There was something clawing at him—crawling along his skin. An itch of sorts, but it felt like it was coming from deep within instead. His heart was thumping much too loudly in his chest, each beat just a tad faster than the last and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

 _Ten_. His face floated to Johnny’s mind—a crystal clear picture playing itself out in slow-motion. Ten’s fine brows going from furrowed bewilderment to arched realization and distress. The soft twinkle in Ten’s eyes fading into blank ebony before widening in horror. The whispered, “What do you mean?” as Johnny pulled the door shut behind him. That voice, those eyes—they followed him as he fled down the hall and out the door back into the rain. It haunted him as he found himself back at the studios, completely void of people late at night. It was burnt into his mind as he sobbed and sobbed until he finally fell asleep and it was here now as he clutched at his neck.

 _I can’t breathe_. He was lonely. So lonely.

 _I can’t **breathe**_ **.** All that he had, all that he wanted—he ruined it singlehandedly. His friends, gone. A debut, gone. Ten, gone. Everything, gone.

 _I. Can’t. **Breathe.**_ The ground swayed and turned beneath Johnny as he tried to catch his breath. It was here now—the monster was here. It was sinking its claws into his chest squeezing all his air out as it giggled and mocked him. It clutched his mind and fed him hatred and vitriol—yelling and screaming until he was in a corner begging it to stop. It gripped at his heart weighing it down with anguish and despair until Johnny was faced with his greatest enemy once more: himself.

 _Am I dying?_ Johnny’s mind raced as he continued to claw at his neck, mouth pinched shut, nostrils flaring as he struggled. His phone—where was it? He definitely would’ve brought it with him. He struggled as he tried to search his jacket but to no avail. He couldn’t have left it at home.

It was getting harder to breathe now and Johnny was growing light-headed. _My pants_ , he patted his front pockets, but there was nothing there either. The edges of his vision were beginning to flicker and it was growing difficult to stay seated upright. _Back pockets_. _Of course_. He tried to reach behind him, but his arm only flopped beside him. _My phone- Ten- I can’t die yet_ , he panicked, willing his arm to just reach over and feel. _Ten- no, I can’t die yet._

Suddenly, the pressure dissipated and Johnny collapsed onto the ground, lungs heaving as he gulped for breath after breath of sweet oxygen. _What was that? What just happened?_ What was that sheer terror, that choking horror that had pinned him down? It took a hold of him, filled him with dread and a fear he’d never known before—a fear of death, a fear of never seeing Ten ever again. A fear of leaving Ten behind. Just the very thought made his heart stutter. It was frightening—extremely frightening, but-

  _I’m not dead_ , relief washed through him as he gasped. _I’m not dead_. His heart was beating way too fast, his limbs were quivering, and that dread was still there, but he was alive. He was _alive_. _I can see Ten_. Elation and euphoria replaced his panic as his panting gradually slowed back to normal. He was still alive. He could still see Ten. _Ten._ For the second time that day, Johnny broke down into tears. He wanted to see Ten. He needed to see Ten. But how could he?

For the next several hours, Johnny lingered around at the company going through the motions of attending lessons. He was hesitant at first, standing around the corner just out of sight debating if he should go in or not until he overheard someone mention that Ten wasn’t feeling well so in he went as normal, hanging out with the others for the first time in several weeks. They gave him odd looks at first, likely worried about how he had stormed off the night before, but thankfully they said nothing about it. They were good friends that way, really. It took time and many arguments, but over the years they’ve come to learn how to read each other’s moods and knew just when to leave each other alone. It wasn’t always perfect and they still bickered over things, but their squabbles only strengthened their friendships now.

During times like this—times where they knew Johnny wanted nothing other than to be left alone—care came through thoughtful actions rather than anything explicit. ‘I’m here,’ a turkey sandwich would magically appear, ‘I care about you,’ an iced Americano was placed into his hand. Small, meaningful actions done without a single word other than, “Here, hyung. I got this for you.”

Quietly, Johnny ate the sandwich and sipped at his coffee letting their kindness warm him from within. The morning had left him thoroughly exhausted before the day had even started and he was struggling to keep up with everything. It was as if his limbs were heavy blocks of cement—so heavy that even getting up from the floor sucked the energy out of him, so he chose to remain seated for as long as possible. Thankfully, today was more of a freestyle class where the instructor was there to help the boys refine their moves rather than to teach an entire choreography and Johnny could just sit around and watch. His thoughts—if any—were sluggish and slow to come. They were trapped underwater languidly drifting by and coming close to the surface, but never quite breaking it. Yet there was a clarity to it. A bit of stillness. It wasn’t quite the same serenity that Ten made him feel nor the shocked silence that rejection had left him with, but a muted lucidity of sorts.

Another drink made its way into his hands. “Watermelon juice,” Mark informed him. Johnny stared at it for a moment before taking it with a small smile, vision going blurry. He had been doing a lot of that today—crying. Each time one of his friends gave him something, gratitude overwhelmed him and before he knew it, there were tears in his eyes. How could he have forgotten how much his friends cared about him?

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Eh? Wait- What- A-are you crying??” Mark switched to English, hands gesturing up in the air as he freaked out.

“Yeah. Sorry,” Johnny chuckled as he wiped his eyes dry.

Mark paused and looked around the room in search of someone better equipped to handle Johnny than he was. Unfortunately for him, it was completely empty except for the two of them. The others were currently out for dinner and Mark had the misfortune of a poorly timed schedule due to school. He turned back to Johnny, round eyes wide with concern. “Umm… what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he hesitated.

Johnny laughed once more, this time with amusement rather than thankfulness. _He’s still just a kid_ , he grinned at Mark. It was hard to remember his age at times—Mark had just as much discipline as all the older rookies. Perhaps even more than them. Balancing school and their unforgiving training was something Johnny didn’t think he could’ve managed at his age. But during times like this, times like Mark buying him some watermelon juice—it was simply endearing. He didn’t particularly care for it preferring fresh fruit instead of its liquid form, but he understood that Mark wanted to cheer him up and this was his awkward way of doing it. “It’s really complicated,” Johnny took a sip. _Delicious_. “I can’t tell you why.”

“Oh,” Mark’s face dropped.

“This is good though,” he quickly tilted the plastic cup at Mark, “Really good. Thank you.”

Pleased, Mark plopped down beside him and sipped at his own juice. “You know, hyung,” he broke the silence. “You seem kinda sad lately. I don’t know what’s been going on with you, but you don’t gotta tell me about it or anything. I just… well… like… like…,” Mark sought for the words as he grabbed at the air. “I just care about you.”

“Are you trying to confess to me or something?”

“What?? No!” Mark’s eyebrows shot up as he reeled back, flustered. “I mean like I care about you in a bro way!!”

“I know,” Johnny chuckled. “I was just teasing you. I love you too man.”

“I- well- yeah. That.”

Johnny grinned as he wrapped an arm around Mark, pulling him in for a quick hug. _So young. So awkward._ But he still had a better grasp of his own emotions than Johnny did despite how clumsy he was at expressing them and it left Johnny feeling a little lighter—a little freer. By the time Mark had left for the night, Johnny found the courage to finally head back to the dorms.

He took the long route home taking his time to look around as he walked as slowly as possible. The late evening breeze was crisp and the air fresh after all that rain yesterday. With each breath, Johnny’s steps grew light as his weariness was gently soothed away. There was even the faint twinkling of stars peeking out despite the bright lights of Seoul. They seemed like they were greeting Johnny—gracing him with their hopeful soft glows as they cheered him on to what they knew was going to be a difficult task. It was a lovely night—the kind of night where he would’ve energetically rushed home to Ten only to drag him out on a late night walk. _But not anymore_. Instead, he was in front of their room taking a deep breath in as he finally pushed it open.

Instantly, his heart dropped. It was complete chaos in there. In the darkness, Johnny could make out the wads of tissues beside an overflowing trash can. Clearly, Ten had been crying all day much like Johnny had. There were even crumpled pieces of paper scattered around the room, some as far as his side as if Ten had thrown them in a fit of misery. All of Ten’s sketchbooks laid open, edges jagged from all the torn pages. Pens sat uncapped on top of them and there was a bowl of untouched food on the nightstand. As silently as possible, Johnny tiptoed around the mess, squinting at Ten’s bed in the dark in hopes that he didn’t hear him come in.

“Johnny?”

He froze, heart hammering in his chest. _Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look_. But he wanted to see Ten. Had to see him. That voice, that face—it always drew him in no matter what he did. Wherever Ten went, Johnny’s eyes would follow. Whenever Ten spoke, Johnny would fall silent. Whatever Ten did, Johnny had to get involved. Ten was the fire and Johnny was the unwitting moth and boy did Johnny like to play with fire. So he looked.

A mistake. Johnny immediately dropped his head. He had only caught a split second of Ten’s shadowed face, but that was enough to confirm what he had already suspected: swollen face, puffy eyes, raw nose. Worse than that was the shimmering eyes and the slight tremble in his lower lip. He could even hear quiet sniffles and hiccups every now and then.

The words dried up in his mouth as a pang of guilt gripped him. “Hi,” he massaged his neck as he stared at the floor. What else could he say? Apologize? After all that’s said and done? So he went back to what he originally planned on: packing his bag. He was going to stay out for the night again—camp out at the studio or even a net café if he really had to. Even a park bench sounded pretty good right now. Anywhere but here.

“Where are you going?” Ten rasped out.

“Out.” His wallet, check. Charger, check. Now for a change of clothes and some clean underwear. One pair or two? Maybe three? How long was he going to be gone for? Was it better to err on the side of caution? How long could he be gone for without someone suspecting something anyway?  

A pause. A sniffle. “Don’t go,” Ten whispered.

Johnny ignored him. One was best and a second just in case. Staying away for a night without telling a manager and having a good reason was already risky enough, but two? If they found out, they’d definitely corner him and then he’d be stuck trying to spin a convincing enough lie.

“Please don’t go.”

What about his laptop? Surely it was going to be boring staying at the company all day and night without anything to do, but it was pretty heavy and he was probably going to need the space. A book then. Two books maybe. What else did he need? Ah yes, toiletries. Very important. Snacks too. Did he bring his wallet? He did, didn’t he? Yep, still in his pocket right where he put it.

“Johnny please.”

Wallet, phone, charger. Check, check, and check. Clothes, check. Underwear, check. What else did he need again? Wallet? No, that was already in his pockets. Toiletries. Right. Toiletries.

He heard the soft shifting of sheets followed by the all too familiar creak of footsteps on the ground as Ten got out of bed. _Toiletries. I need shampoo and conditioner._ His toothpaste and toothbrush too. A towel as well. Soap and facewash.

Creak.

Shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush. What else did he need again?

 _Creak_.

_Shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush-_

**_Creak_ ** _._

“Johnny stop,” Ten hugged him from behind, tugging the shirt he’d been packing and unpacking over and over again out of his hands. “Just stop it.”

“But _why?_ ” Johnny choked out, tears dripping down onto his bed. “Why don’t you want me to leave? Don’t you hate me now?” Shouldn’t Ten hate him now, especially with how he left? He didn’t even give Ten a chance to reply last night—didn’t even give Ten an explanation for leaving. He just got up and left. That was it.

Ten pulled him in closer, rubbing his face into Johnny’s back as he shook his head. “No. I love you.”

At that, Johnny broke out into a sob as he sagged forward, held up only by the strength of Ten’s arms. He had thought Ten would hate him, cuss him out, curse his existence—blame Johnny for his tears, blame Johnny for his heartache, blame Johnny for doing this to him. He was convinced that the moment he walked in Ten would be screaming at him or worse yet, gone with all his things magically packed and moved into his new dorm. Not this.

“I- I-,” Johnny started, but each blubber cut him off as he choked and wept. _It hurts. Everything hurts_. His heart hurt, his mind hurt, his body hurt. Everything hurt. _Why isn’t he angry? Why doesn’t he hate me? Why does he still love me?_ The longer Ten held on, the worse the pain got, but still-

“Shh,” Ten clung on. “Don’t say anything Johnny. Just let me love you.”

Of course. Of course, Ten still loved him. He knew it by the way twin damp spots soaked into his shirt, knew it by the way Ten quivered as he tried his best to hold in sobs, knew it in the force that Ten embraced him with. Whatever Johnny did, Ten wouldn’t let go plain and simple. _Warm._ So warm. Strong too. Ten always held him up whenever he couldn’t stand. Made him laugh whenever he cried. Kept him going whenever his spirit was crushed. Ten was everything he needed whenever he needed it and more, but it was destroying him.

Gradually, the tears slowed down to a halt and Ten finally let go of him. Exhausted, Johnny slumped down onto the bed. “I’m sorry,” he buried his face into his hands. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to apologize about, but not a single one of them came to mind. All there was was a feeling of defeat. He didn’t want to continue staying with Ten like this. He couldn’t continue staying with Ten like this. Ten’s tender loving ways, his soft heart—it was destroying him. Ten fed his self-destructive habits, fueled his loathing and his hatred and that, that had to come to a stop because Ten couldn’t do it for him. “I’m sorry for leaving you last night, but I meant those words.”

Johnny felt Ten stiffen before him followed by the bed dipping as Ten sank down. “I know you did,” he quietly admitted, staring at the wall across from them. “I was just hoping it was all just a lie,” he ruefully smiled. For a long moment, silence hung heavy between the two of them, each searching for the fleeting words that they had wanted to say. But the only sounds to be heard was heartbreak and solitude.

“I just…,” Johnny licked his lips, “This thing—this anger, this _hatred_. Whatever it is—I can feel it getting worse and eating me up and I… I just can’t take it anymore. It has to stop. No. It _needs_ to stop. I need to work on it and I… I need to do it alone.” He needed to be a better Johnny. Not for Ten, not for his friends, not for his dream, but for himself. He was going to become a better Johnny for himself.

“I understand,” Ten quietly placed a hand on Johnny’s thigh. “I wish I could help you with it.”

“You can’t,” Johnny whispered.

“I know.” Gently, Ten tugged his hand and brought it to his lips. “Still,” he murmured into Johnny’s skin as a tear slid down his face, “I love you.”

Johnny’s chest clenched as he reached out to cup Ten’s face, taking a moment to commit it to memory. Tarry pools. A quaint nose. Cat-like eyes. Fine lips. _Ten_. Squeezing his eyes shut, he touched his forehead against Ten’s as he breathed him in. “I love you too,” Johnny’s heart splintered and shattered, “Always will love you.”

 _Always will_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title namesake: [rationale - oil and water](https://open.spotify.com/track/2EGcuud9qwxhKDcLRW7dPN) ([yt](https://youtu.be/XY61DafwJsw))  
> also inspired by: [billie eilish - i love you](https://open.spotify.com/track/6CcJMwBtXByIz4zQLzFkKc) ([yt](https://youtu.be/WiinVuzh4DA))
> 
> come say hi!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)


	15. In My Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Someone help me_   
>  _I'm crawling in my skin_   
>  _Sometimes I feel like giving up_   
>  _But I just can't_
> 
> _It isn't in my blood_  
>  \-- Shawn Mendes - In My Blood

The next several months was some of the hardest times in Johnny’s life. The day after their bittersweet night, the date for when Ten was to move into his new dorms was decided. The boys were given a week to pack their things and enjoy their final days of being rookies before preparations for their promotions began. With every passing day, Johnny’s room grew a little emptier, a little lonelier as Ten packed his few belongings into cardboard boxes.

_It’ll be like this soon_ , Johnny would lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. _After Ten leaves it’ll be like this_. But before he could dwell any longer, Ten would be back from his schedules cutting Johnny’s thoughts short as he crawled into bed next to him, cuddling Johnny as he told him about his day. They weren’t deluded of what was to come. Far from it. It was just a mutual understanding between the two of them to pretend for a little bit longer, stay together a little while more until Ten moved out.

Cuddling, kissing, sex—they did it all every night, but gone was the previous fervor and infatuation replaced by quiet, tender exploration as they committed one another to memory as a precious time in their lives. They took their sweet time to enjoy and feel, seek and touch. That passion, that fiery declaration—it wasn’t necessary anymore. They simply knew that they loved one another. They knew it in each other’s touch, in each other’s embrace, in each other’s lips. They knew it in their hearts and in their souls and that was enough. That was enough for them.

When the day finally came, Johnny had sent Ten off with a hug and a smile trying to leave Ten with one last happy memory of his time as a rookie. It was only when Ten had pulled him in for a final hug and a whispered I love you before the van sped off that Johnny began to feel the first inklings of loneliness settling in. What was worse was that it wasn’t limited to just his room; it was the entire house. All the guys could feel the loss of their friends—the empty spaces they left behind as they moved onto the next phase of their lives. Things weren’t as rowdy anymore, leftovers lingered in the fridge, dishes no longer sat waiting in the sink. There weren’t any fights for the bathroom, no huddled movie nights, no clothes to swap. Nothing.

The emptiness felt even greater in Johnny’s room. The door echoed whenever he closed it now and the rustling of his own sheets was too loud at night. Even his footsteps thudded hollowly against the floor. Then there were the tears. Lots and lots of tears, sometimes hitting him out of the blue when he had been laughing at a video just moments before. All around him were just too many memories. The little bits of peeled paint from when Ten had taken down his drawings off the wall, the indentations on the wooden floor from Ten knocking over a lamp once, the scent of Ten still lingering heavy on his sheets.

At times, the loneliness got so bad that Johnny struggled just getting out of bed. It was a battle between he and himself then—one that he rapidly lost as the brunt of his problem truly began to unveil its ugly head. Day after day he fought his own mind trying to coax it out of bed, trying to plead with it to eat something, trying to yell at it to go do his training. Whenever it got too much for him, Johnny allowed his own hate to overwhelm him. He allowed it to berate himself, to scream and criticize until he was on the verge of tears once more. He needed something—anything; something to yank him out of the fog, something to stem the self-pity, something to silence that monstrous voice telling him this is what he deserved.

Try as he might, Johnny simply couldn’t win as he beat himself down. On and on the loathing went, twisting and warping reality into a weapon used against himself until he was teetering on the edge of despair once more. It stared up at him a familiar gaping chasm of horror, but _no. No more. **No more.**_ Enough was enough. He was not going to fall. He refused to fall. He had enough of feeling sorry for himself. He had enough of feeling trapped. He had enough of letting life pass him by. No. He couldn’t go back there anymore, didn’t want to go back there. He refused. What he wanted was to be happy. He wanted to feel the mirth from laughing so hard until his stomach hurt, not the taint of gloom hanging heavy over him. He wanted to hop out of bed ready to tackle the day, not dread whatever was to come. He wanted to feel that simple pleasure from a cool breeze, not misery over past regrets He wanted to feel that vigor, that ardor, that _life_. He wanted to be happy. No. He was going to _choose_ to be happy, so he clung on. He dug his fingertips into the dirt and refused to let go. That was the first step.

The second step was getting the much-needed help he knew he needed, but that was harder. Admitting he needed help, fine. It took a lot of struggling, sure, but Johnny knew he needed it deep down inside. Actually seeking it out though? That was a different matter altogether. How was he supposed to do that? What would people think? What would people say? All the other trainees didn’t need it. No one else was this broken up inside. _Maybe it’s just me. Maybe the problem **is** me_\- **_No!_**

His fingers were slipping, his strength was growing weak. _My friends are **not** like that. They won’t look down on me. They won’t laugh at me. They care for me. They love me. _But what was that strange look Jaehyun gave him earlier? Why did Yuta stand him up for lunch? Why did- _No._

It was getting harder and harder to hold on and that chasm—it _was_ familiar. _People struggle all the time. I’ve seen Taeyong cry. I’ve seen Doyoung cry. I’ve seen all of them cry. I’ve seen them at their worst and they’ve seen me at my worst. We struggle and we help each other out._ But they were stronger people than him. They didn’t sit and mope around in bed all day. They didn’t pity themselves and whine over the unfairness of life. They didn’t- **_No._**

His body was exhausted, his heart and mind tired of fighting himself, yet his spirit—his spirit only grew. The wearier he got, the more resolute he was. That self-inflicted lashing—it only thickened his skin. His hatred against himself fed his fury. He was not going to fall anymore. He was not going to pity himself, he was not going to hate himself. He was going to be happy. He was going to stop this nonsense and be happy. _But-_ **_No_**. _This stops now. I will be happy. I choose to be happy. After all, I am me. I am Johnny._

_I have grit._

_I have discipline._

_I have determination._

_I have willpower._

**_That’s_ ** _why I’ve been a trainee after all these years. **That’s** why I keep going day in and day out working my ass off trying to debut. **That’s** why I have hope to begin with. This is me. This is who I am. This is Johnny._

“Hyung,” he went up to the manager he trusted most. “Can I talk to you about something?”

It was hard at first, harder than he thought. He didn’t even tell Ten half of the mess that was going on in his mind. Perhaps not even a quarter. How could he? It was scary after all, being faced with his deepest insecurity was. _What if he hates me? What if he thinks I’m disgusting?_ _What if he thinks less of me?_ It was much too daunting and the doubts silenced him. They were here even now as he struggled to speak. _Does this make me a failure? Will I get a bad weekly evaluation? Would they let me go as a trainee?_ He was stripped naked, vulnerable and defenseless, but the scars were too much. The burden was too much.

Out it came a trickle at first before a tidal wave unleashed as he began to talk. His manager listened. He quietly sat there and listened as Johnny spoke, only opening his mouth to ask a question or two or encourage Johnny to talk a little more. By the time Johnny ran out of things to say, his manager was staring at a wall behind him, tears running down his face.

“Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” he whispered, “I didn’t know you were struggling this much.” His manager sobbed then—the first time Johnny had ever seen him cry.

“I’m sorry,” his manager pulled him into a hug. “It’s been hard on you, hasn’t it?”

After that, things were a little easier.

As the weeks went by, he learned to love himself a little more, smile a little more. He even learned to enjoy and befriend the solitude he’d once been so afraid of. Slowly and surely, he stopped dreading being by himself. As it turned out, the seclusion gave him the time and space he needed to just think. Not think and drive himself into a corner, but to introspect and reflect instead. Just what was it that he hated about himself so much? Just why did he feel so useless, so worthless, so inadequate? Was this even true? Was he useless? Was he worthless? Was he inadequate?

On and on he’d go, learning to challenge the reality of each thought he had and learning to see just what upset him so. Once he figured that out, he’d ask himself how to fix it then. He didn’t just sit there and twiddle his thumbs as he came up with tentative solutions. He had done that before and all that got him was a rut as he debated what to pick, whether it’d work, how to do it, and more. No. He just picked something and did it, plain and simple. If there weren’t any solutions, he let it go instead. No sense crying over spilt milk, especially when it was what got him here in the first place.

Of course, things weren’t always that simple though. There were bad days and bad weeks where he couldn’t quite seem to bring himself to get out of bed nor leave his room. During days like that, his manager would barge into the room all but dragging him out of bed as he nagged at Johnny to get up. He hated his manager then but after being up and about for a while, he was filled with gratitude to him for not giving up on him. Sometimes the others still living at the dorm would drop by too, talking and joking and giving Johnny a sense of normalcy and comfort until he finally crawled out of bed himself. Days like that—they made him grateful for all the love and support he had. The loneliness he had feared so much, the friends he thought had abandoned him—turns out they were just more of the many tricks his mind played on him.

Then there was the matter with Ten. Johnny had expected things to be awkward at first and they were, but it was no where near as bad as he had convinced himself. All this time, he expected that Ten would avoid and shun him, but it was nothing like that. He didn’t leave the room the moment Johnny walked in. He didn’t refuse to look at Johnny. He didn’t make any disgusted faces whenever Johnny looked at him. None of those.

That didn’t mean that they were perfectly dandy though. They weren’t. Of course, they weren’t. How could they have been? Each time they saw one another, they remembered what they had once been, what was once there—chest tightening, tears threatening to come as they remembered each other’s touch. Just being within the vicinity of one another hurt enough, but they were professionals. They took pride in their jobs, they cherished their dreams, but above all they treasured each other, so they put their differences aside and did what had to be done.

Gradually, the awkwardness abated as they fell back into the rhythm of work, each having some space and time to themselves with their separate schedules. The stiff exchange of greetings in the hallway slowly gave way to polite congratulations and compliments from Johnny as NCT U promotions started. The polite congratulations slowly turned into genuine happiness when Ten and their friends started gaining popularity and success. Eventually, he and Ten were back to friends laughing and joking, going out to eat and play—much like they did in their early days as trainees. The only traces left of their past was the odd pause after a touch and the comfort in each other’s familiar presence.

Months ticked by and Johnny was working harder than ever when finally, _finally_ , that day came: the news he had been waiting for for so long. The moment it was confirmed, his manager immediately called him over. At first, Johnny could hardly believe his ears. What was his manager saying? Debut? He and Doyoung? With 127? Sometime later in the year or early next year? Really? Was it true? Was he sure? Was it finally time? He wasn’t just joking with him, right? It wasn’t a lie, right?

Even after he sat through meetings and signed his contract, he still didn’t believe it. All that was was just a bunch of words and a stack of paper. That didn’t mean much—not when he’d been looked over twice. The congratulations of his friends and family? Just more words. The days in the recording booth, the weeks at the dance studio, the days on set for filming? Must be just a dream. Only when the teasers started trickling out one by one did he get a glimpse of his new reality until finally, his own teaser was out.

It had been a surreal experience back then. The moment it was out, all his friends had texted him congratulations: his fellow rookie friends, his friends in NCT, his old friends in EXO, his friends in Chicago. Everybody. Even his parents were mysteriously awake, texting him and then calling him when Johnny answered their message. It wasn’t until he went online and was face to face with himself that it finally hit him. _That’s me???_ he had stared at it in disbelief. _Is that really me??_ And it was him. That was him on screen, his name next to his new group. He was really debuting. It was real. His dream was coming true. It was really finally coming true.

_Finally_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a bit on the shorter side because i realized that the story touches a bit upon some mental health issues that i felt needed to be fully addressed in a dedicated chapter of its own. i didn't start the story out with the intention of dealing with mental health, but it kinda just happened that way ε-(´∀｀; ) 
> 
> remember to hug your friends and family and tell them you care. be kind to strangers as well! you never know who needs that little bit of human touch and warmth ❤️ it's also important to love yourselves too. take some time out and treat yourself to a nice bath or mask, eat something nourishing, or go for a walk ❤️
> 
>  
> 
> title namesake: [shawn mendes - in my blood](https://open.spotify.com/track/2QZ7WLBE8h2y1Y5Fb8RYbH) ([yt](https://youtu.be/36tggrpRoTI))
> 
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	16. Still

Within a blink of an eye, two years passed as Johnny threw himself knee deep into work every single day doing whatever he could get his hands on. All this work, all these things to _do_. It was absolutely thrilling. Enlivening. _Exhilarating_.

Recording, practicing choreography, filming, modelling, promoting—Johnny did it all. Radio shows every night, being shuttled around the city—all of it—invigorating. It was a high Johnny could never get enough of even if his body protested the lack of sleep and constant work. This was his dream come true after all, quite literally. He had spent eight years trying to reach this point and there was no way he was slowing down now. Limitless came and went. So did Cherry Bomb, Empathy, Chain. Then it was Regular-Irregular and with it were their promotions in America.

“Mom! Dad!” he had excitedly called his parents then. “We’re gonna be on the Jimmy Kimmel Show! Can you believe it?” They’d been so thrilled for him counting down the days until his performance, huddling in front of the TV with family and close friends, calling him afterwards later that night. Johnny could’ve sworn he heard his dad tearing up in the background as his mom cried about how proud she was of him. Finally, Johnny had something to show his parents after all their years of sacrifice—after all his years of sacrifice. _Finally_.

Following the American promotions was Simon Says and after that was this: NCT 127’s very first concert.

The preparations were in its final stages and the big day was two weeks away, but instead of throwing himself into work like he preferred, Johnny was stuck waiting for staff to finish discussing one of the many logistics of the concert. In all his years of being a trainee, nothing had prepared him for this—all this waiting around. He had expected endless hours and hours of work all the way until the first day of their concert, yet there really wasn’t much for them to do other than to participate in the occasional discussion and dance a song or two for the staff to observe and make changes to the stage. Other than that, nothing. It was almost deceptive after dedicating entire days in the past week to perfecting choreography. They had old memories to dig up and their set list to get used to. There were also new formations to learn; Jungwoo had to be taught most dances while Haechan needed to be filled in for but after that, just this waiting around.

Bored, Johnny picked up his phone in search of something to do. One of WayV’s video had just been released—one of those behind the scene videos meant to showcase some of their personalities to fans and give them a peek into what work was like for the guys. It was always fun for Johnny to watch videos like this; it was a way of reliving memories of what they were doing during that time and see some of the things he had missed simply by being too into the moment. With the other subunits however, it was more like taking on the seat of an audience rather than someone who personally knew the members. It was more fun that way taking on the perspective of a fan. Different too.

The video started and Johnny grinned as he saw the familiar faces pop up one by one—Lucas, Winwin, Xiaojun all doing a mini interview about their thoughts on filming. Then the video cut to Ten and Hendery and Johnny leaned forward, straining to hear Ten show off his Chinese over the chatter of staff and friends. It had been amazing how fast Ten had picked it up. Johnny knew some Chinese himself, but what he had was more a product of personal interest rather than the forced investment that Ten had to go through. Already, Ten knew enough Chinese to be able to poke fun of Hendery. Johnny chuckled feeling the slight bit of anxiety he had for Ten slipping away. 

Johnny never admitted it, but he had been worried about Ten and his new group ever since the subunit was announced to them. Just learning a new language was difficult enough, but actively working and promoting in an entirely different country? It was extremely stressful. Johnny would know; his early years as a trainee had been quite the shock the first few summers, but he got over it eventually. Ten though—his new group made it his second time having to work in an entirely different place.  When Johnny had tried to broach the topic about it though, Ten’s joy at finally having a group of his own had been so immense that Johnny dropped the topic entirely. He didn’t want to ruin his happiness after all.

However, seeing the video gave Johnny a peace of mind. Ten was still the same as always messing with others at any opportunity he had. Plus, Winwin, Kun, and Lucas were in the same group as Ten and Johnny knew they’d take good care of him. Ten looked happy. Ten _was_ happy, texting Johnny all the time and constantly sending him pictures and keeping Johnny updated on what he was doing. There was just the slightest something missing though. Something that kept Johnny from being totally happy for his friend. _Still concerned_ , Johnny figured. Perhaps even exhausted. Work had been endless after all and it was only just starting. Johnny sent Ten a quick message about the video before the staff called the guys down for another half hour of standing around and doing nothing.

Another day, another WayV behind. This time Ten spoke a little about how difficult Chinese was for him and how Hendery was Ten’s self-proclaimed teacher—both of which Johnny had already known about. Still, he had to chuckle at Hendery’s sheer enthusiasm as he excited pointed at himself with a huge grin on his face. He had already met Hendery a handful of times although he didn’t know him too well yet; always too busy with his own schedules with 127 to actually hang around long enough and get to know Hendery. From what Ten and some of the others told him though, Hendery was supposedly quite the sweetheart and from the video, it seemed to be true enough.

_Good to know_ , Johnny put his phone aside and started stretching as he waited for the staff to call him. _Ten finally has a group of his own. He’s happy_ , Johnny told himself, but still he worried. How could he not? Ten was his oldest and closest friend after all.

Eventually the Chinese version of Regular came out and with it was a dance practice and more behinds. Ten was now in China with the rest of WayV and Johnny grew busier again flying to Chile for SM Town before coming back to Seoul for the finishing touches for their concert. That odd nagging irritation was still there growing stronger day by day, but Johnny ignored it. He had already ran through possible reasons for his annoyance and came up dry, so he left it alone.

Still, it continued to plague him for several days weaving in and out, snaking around his thoughts whenever had a bit of down time. It was strange, really. For the past year and a half, he’d be perfectly content with himself after finally learning how to tame his mind, but all the tricks he learned back then were falling flat now. He journaled, he distracted himself, he exercised. Hell, he even cleaned up his diet and tried to get enough sleep as best he could with how crazy their schedule was getting, but nada. Nothing. No change.

Introspection didn’t work, trying to be aware of his own thoughts didn’t work. Not even his friends could help him because Johnny didn’t even _know_ what it was that was bothering him. _Strange_ , Johnny frowned as he reached for his phone at the sound of a text message. It was Ten. Johnny let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his chin judging whether he felt like opening it up or not. That’s when it clicked.

“Of course,” Johnny hung his head with an even heavier groan. _Of course_. Ten was the cause of his unease and irritation. It’d been so obvious that Johnny felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner, but how could he? Both he and Ten had completely avoided discussing the matter. The matter of Thailand.

The staff called the boys up onto the stage to run through a chunk of songs, but Johnny couldn’t focus as he went through the motions of singing and dancing. It had been nearly three years. _Three **years**_. So why _now_ after all this time? Johnny had been doing so well. He and Ten had been doing so well. They were just friends now. Just friends. Yet-

The music stopped. The guys had to remain standing on stage while the staff checked and made a few adjustments to the lighting. Johnny wanted nothing more than for the music to start up again so he’d have something to do; the mental discomfort at his realization was too much for him to handle right now and he needed something to distract him or his head was going to explode.

_Why now of all times?_ Johnny impatiently rocked from foot to foot, hopping in place before bowing forward into a stretch. The concert was just two days away now and the last thing Johnny needed was this confusion throwing him off. He knew the reason for his annoyance. He knew the reason and he knew what it meant, but just how was he even going to broach the topic much less wrap his mind around it? Johnny wasn’t ready for yet. He almost wished he hadn’t found out why he had been so upset, yet here he was now stuck with no hope of return.

The next day, Johnny laid awake in bed a mix of nerves and exhaustion hanging over him as he waited for sleep to take him over. The first day of their Seoul concert was tomorrow and he was more than excited at finally being able to perform up on stage for their fans. Carefully, he combed through each of his mistakes from rehearsals earlier in the week and went through the script they had planned as well as their setlist. However, his thoughts kept going back to Ten again and again no matter how hard he tried to stop them.

_Ten_. Just what was Johnny going to do about him? What did he want with him? _That part is over_ , Johnny tried to tell himself. _Just the end of a chapter in our lives_. But was it really the end or was the story still going? Because no matter how hard Johnny had tried over the years, he just simply couldn’t forget about Ten. Whenever he got a text from him, there was a bubble of joy fluttering in his chest. A chance meeting in the halls made it dance and twirl instead. Even a brief touch from Ten still left his skin tingling and his body yearning for just another caress.

Still, Johnny ignored it all. He had to. He wasn’t blind to his feelings anymore, but he thought they were something that would eventually wash away with time. _No. That’s wrong_. Johnny simply _hoped_ that it was something that would disappear despite knowing otherwise deep down inside. 

With every passing day, with every passing month, their friendship only grew. All the problems Johnny used to have with Ten—the quirks and the personality clashes—they were now insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Petty even. Ten was more than just a familiar comforting presence by now; more than a person who accepted Johnny in his entirety, flaws and all. He was more than a home, more than a place for Johnny’s heart. He was life itself.

Their lives, their friendship; their past, their future—he and Ten were intertwined together, woven and interlaced into a complicated tapestry that was their relationship. There was just nothing for Johnny if there was no Ten. No life, no Johnny, no existence. Nothing. Just a small blip of blank in time’s endless march. That’s why Johnny never acted upon his feelings that remained. They were simply an innate, natural part of his existence just like Ten was—so natural that Johnny had all but forgotten what those emotions were like until he watched those videos. That was when they began to stir once more. _Still_ , Johnny’s lids grew heavy as sleep finally began to creep up on him, _this is fine_. What they had now was fine.

The first day of the Seoul concerts came and went with only a few hitches here and there, but other than that it was an absolute thrill. For years, Johnny had pictured this very moment in his mind—the moment where he’d be on stage with thousands of fans in front of him waving their light sticks, holding signs up and screaming his name. The lights, the view, the sounds, the atmosphere—everything; it didn’t even _begin_ to compare to what he had fantasized about. Nor did it compare to what it felt like doing their rookies concert or being on stage for massive SMTown performances. For the first time, NCT was the center of focus. Johnny was the center of focus.

Before he knew it, the night had ended within a blink of an eye and they were all back in their dorms trying to calm themselves down from the adrenaline high so they could get some sleep before the second day of their concert. Ten had sent Johnny a congratulatory message telling him just how much he wished he could’ve gone to see them live. Johnny grinned down at his phone—probably with a fond smile because Taeyong had asked him why he was smiling so happily.

“Ten says he wishes he could’ve come to our concert,” Johnny told him.

“Ah,” Taeyong nodded as he danced over to the light switch. “That would’ve been nice. I miss having him around.”

Johnny gave a small smile as the lights went out. “I do too.”

The second day of their concert was far better than their first now that they weren’t a bundle of nerves. Johnny took the time to really take things in now, snapping himself out of being stuck in his own head every few minutes so he could look around him and remember everything. He took out his in-ear piece every now and then to listen as fans franticly screamed and chanted. He took the time to mess around with some of the others and enjoy himself. He even took note of how rejuvenating it was to take a sip of ice-cold water between songs. _Yes,_ Johnny happily beamed as he waved the crowd good bye while the platform sank down. _This was what I was meant to do_.

A wrap-up party was planned and the boys went out to eat and drink with all the staff that had helped them out. It was a fun-filled night where the drinks flowed freely and the food kept coming and coming as everyone ate and drank to their fullest. Johnny went around the room thanking everybody for their hard work at the concert and for helping them the past month while simultaneously doing a small vlog for their fans. It was only after the camera was put away for the night that the party really began to ramp up.

As the night wore on, the restaurant grew rowdy as people got tipsier and tipsier, stumbling around with their faces flushed from alcohol, huge grins stuck to their faces as the drinking games came out. Beer, soju, wine—Johnny drank it all and joined in on the festivities best he could while he worked around the maze known as the Korean drinking culture. By the time they got home, Johnny’s limbs were nothing but a heavy floppy mess; each and every single step took his entire focus as he tried his best not to trip over himself while the ground continued to tip and spin. Yet, that post-concert high remained strong and even more alcohol magically appeared as the boys laughed and drank some more, challenging one another to ridiculous competitions until they were toeing that line between fun and passing out on the floor.

One by one, they collapsed into bed in a heap of slurring drunken stupor, blissfully ignoring the raging hangover that was sure to ruin their rare day off the following morning. It was only Johnny that was still up as the sun peeked over the horizon, kept awake by his family and friends back in Chicago as he clumsily told them all about their concert and how happy he was before he too finally passed out mid-conversation.

* * *

Elsewhere in Seoul, Ten’s phone lit up in the wee hours of the dark as he peacefully slept, exhausted from his activities in China. One by one, the messages trickled in.

_‘So are we not going to talk about Thailand?’_

_‘Are we just going to keep pretending it never happened?’_

_‘Did it mean anything to you? Do I mean anything to you?’_

_‘Do you think we would’ve had a chance if I never left? If I stayed, would things be different? Would we still be together? Would you still love me?’_

_‘I miss you, you know. I think about you every single day. I love you.’_

_‘I love you so much.’_

_‘I love you so much that it hurts.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took me a while to get this chapter out! i was distracted last week trying to crank taeil's birthday gift out in time ( •̀∀•́ ) chapter 17 should shortly be out soon however. i'm just working on editing a couple parts that i'm unhappy with. as always, thanks for reading 💛
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	17. Be Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Maybe if the stars align, maybe if our worlds collide_   
>  _Maybe on the dark side we can be together_
> 
>  
> 
> \-- Be Together by Major Lazer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would like to dedicate this chapter to the bottle of red wine i had and my good friend hoka. you have both of those to blame.

It had been last December—the last month that Johnny had seen Ten before WayV’s debut and 127’s concert preparations started. They went to Thailand along with Ten for a music festival and it was extremely hot during the few days they were there. Humid too, especially compared to Seoul. It was quite the shock stepping off the plane after being in near snow temperatures to a wall of heat slamming into them, but it was a welcomed changed even if they were unprepared. The blazing temperatures may have stung their sticky skin, but the humidity soothed away their scratchy throats and dry sinuses. Combine their usual work with Ten and their excitement more than doubled as they spent time with their dear friend.

They did their concert, filmed a few videos for their Youtube channel, did a vLive—all within a few days as per usual. After that however, was the rare free evening. Not only did they have nothing to do, but their manager even allowed them go out to explore the city and have some fun—an opportunity most of the guys took up.

Johnny had been too tired after filming the second part of cup of coffee so he didn’t go out with everybody else. It’d been a hilarious recording especially with Doyoung unwittingly thrown into the mix and all of them dressed up in uniform trying to maintain a concept of being schoolboys. It was also the first time in a few months that he finally had the time to hang out with Ten; 127’s two comebacks and America had sucked up all his time and any breaks Johnny had was spent prerecording radio shows with Jaehyun. All in all though, it had been a fun afternoon at the restaurant, but it was also the cherry on top to the rest of his exhaustion. Luckily for him though, Haechan said he’d bring back some food for dinner, so Johnny settled in for a quiet evening to himself.

While waiting for his roommate, Johnny decided to get some drinks for himself before work kicked back up and kept them busy once more. He called room service, got a cocktail, and was halfway through his drink when there was a knock on the door. _Haechan?_ Johnny glanced at his phone. It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since Haechan left. _The manager then?_ Turned out it was neither.

“I’m bored,” Ten announced, strutting inside as Johnny stepped back with a surprised chuckle. “Where’s Haechan?” Ten eyed his drink and stuck his hand out. Johnny handed it to him, catching a whiff of freshly washed hair: a crisp clean scent of verbena and coconut—the shampoo Ten used to use at their old dorms. Ten tried a small sip tasting it to see if it was to his liking or not before happily taking a gulp as he peeked out the windows.

“He’s out with all the others,” Johnny took his empty glass back and joined Ten by the window to admire the evening view. The neon lights were glowing and pulsating in vivid pinks, deep violets, and lime greens. Streaks of lights passed and stopped for minutes on end as the streets grew congested from rush hour. In the distance, Johnny could make out the peaks of a temple brightly lit by spotlights, contrasting with the concrete skyscrapers surrounding it.

“Why didn’t you go?” Johnny turned to Ten.

“I was still too full from the restaurant earlier,” Ten cracked open the windows flooding the room with a gentle breeze and the hubbub of late-night traffic chatter. The unique smell of the city soon followed carried in by the wind: noxious car fumes mixing with the lush damp greenery and the savory street food with its distinct mix of spicy chilis, fragrant lemon grass, and fermented seafood. Johnny’s stomach grumbled.

Ten glanced at him and laughed, eyes squinting into two crescents as the skin over his cheeks pulled into taut lines. “I’m getting hungry too. You wanna get some room service and more drinks?”

Johnny paused for a moment debating his options. Haechan _was_ supposed to be getting him food but seeing the growing line of traffic, it looked like it was going to be quite some time until he came back. Plus, Ten was suggesting more alcohol. “Sure,” Johnny nodded, making a note to text Haechan later on. “You’re paying for it though.”

Forty minutes later they both had another cocktail settling in their stomachs and a bottle of red wine with a small array of food spread out on the tray in front of them. Johnny picked the bottle up, raising an eyebrow as he read it out loud. “Cabernet Sauvignon 2016, huh?” he turned to Ten.

Ten grinned at him. “You said you were going to get it earlier but never did, so I did it for you,” he took the bottle and poured out two glasses. “Cheers,” he handed one to Johnny.

The burgundy purple liquid rippled as they clinked their glasses and Johnny eyed it before taking a small sip. Really, he shouldn’t be having any more especially on an empty stomach. Already he could feel his limbs growing heavy and his head light from the two cocktails he had, but it had been a while since he last hung out with Ten, let alone go drinking together. _What the hell_ , Johnny caved in and took another sip, taking a moment to enjoy the tart bitter liquid.

Johnny carried the tray of food and set it down on the bed before sitting down. “Doesn’t it feel like we’re trainees again?” Ten asked.

He turned towards Ten and followed his gaze, looking around the room. “Huh. Yeah, now that you mention it it does kinda feel like we’re trainees again.”

With every passing minute it felt as if time was beginning to reverse itself as Johnny grew tipsy. The cool evening breeze that would wash away the oppressive summer mugginess, the small hotel room with the two bigger beds on either side of it, the mess that he and Haechan managed to conjure up in just two days—they were all reminiscent of their time as trainees. Throw Ten into the mix with that shampoo of his and how they were using Johnny’s bed as their place to lounge once more and it was exactly like they were back in time.

“I miss it,” Ten murmured, sheets softly shuffling as he sat up.

“Yeah, I do to-,” Johnny turned, heart leaping in his chest when he came face to face with Ten half a foot away from him. For a wild moment, Johnny thought that Ten was going to kiss him before belatedly realizing that Ten was staring past Johnny at the food behind him.

_I’m just drunk_ , Johnny awkwardly moved aside and sipped at his wine in a futile attempt to calm his racing heart. The booze, the nostalgia, the atmosphere—it was just messing with his brain. That was it. _Even Ten’s drunk_ , Johnny noted as he glanced at him. Ten’s normally tarry eyes were now a murky pool of ink, glazed and unfocused from the alcohol getting to him. It was one of the very few signs of inebriation that Ten did have.

Johnny took another sip as he tried to stare out the window through his own drunken haze, but all he could see around him were memories—memories that were better off slumbering deep within, tranquilized and locked in a state of hibernation. Memories that weren’t supposed to wake.

Worse yet was that the more Johnny drank, the more the present reality faded away. The ruckus of honking traffic and angry shouting melted into the quieter rumble of vehicles and rustling of leaves near their old dorm. Even the bed seemed to shrink down half its size with how close Ten was sitting near him. And then there was that damned shampoo. Johnny couldn’t even begin to count how many nights he had spent with his arms wrapped around Ten and his face buried into Ten’s hair. With every whiff he got, he found himself growing even more confused as the alcohol jumbled his senses.

With a dull clink Ten set his empty glass down as he rested a hand on Johnny’s knee. Before Johnny could even question what he was doing, Ten was leaning over his lap reaching for some food beside him. But instead of sitting back up as Johnny had expected, Ten decided to drape himself on top of Johnny instead.

“You should try this,” Ten looked up as he chewed, pointing at a dish with a fork. “It’s really good.” He speared a piece of meat and held it up at Johnny.

Blankly, Johnny stared at the glistening morsel trying to think through why Ten thought that laying on his lap would be a good idea, but his thoughts were slow and sluggish to come. _Is this some kind of sick joke?_ But one glance at the nearly empty wine bottle said otherwise. It didn’t help that Ten never flushed nor slurred his words when he drank making it that much more difficult to gauge his state of intoxication. No, Ten’s tells were much more subtler than that. Other than the unfocused eyes, Ten was just simply more of Ten. That is, more touching, more intense stares, more sensuality—all done with his usual air of pompousness.

Normally, the two of them went out drinking with all the others so Johnny was rarely ever on the receiving end of a tipsy Ten and his need for touch. Most of the time he was too drunk either way, busy enjoying himself in his own corner cracking jokes and being louder than usual. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time where it was just the two of them drunk and now that they were alone, Johnny found himself feeling nervous under that sultry gaze of Ten’s.

“W-what is it?” Johnny licked his lips.

“Pork,” Ten replied. “The menu said it’s marinated in some mix of soy sauce, honey, and a bunch of other things.”

“Honey huh?” Johnny swallowed, remembering the earlier filming. It was a dumb joke of Ten’s, but it did remind Johnny of what Ten’s skin tasted like. Then there was that look—a split second flicker of something unreadable as Johnny looked up from the camera straight up at Ten before it was immediately smoothed away and forgotten as they carried on filming. The moment suddenly came to mind now and with how Ten remained splayed out over his lap, Johnny couldn’t help but stare at that bit of sun-kissed skin peeking out under the collar of Ten’s shirt.

Ten grinned at Johnny’s accidental joke. “Yeah. Honey. You have to taste it,” he dangled the meat in front of Johnny’s face.

Now if Johnny was sober, maybe he would’ve realized that Ten had caught him staring at his skin. If Johnny was sober, maybe he would’ve noticed the glimmer of uncertainty beneath that mask of drunken mischief. If Johnny was sober, maybe he would’ve caught onto the fact that Ten had been all but insisting that Johnny drink as quickly as possible the entire night. However, Johnny was not sober.

He made a move to grab the fork only to miss as Ten leaned away, pulling the meat off with his teeth and leaving it there. “No. You have to _taste_ it,” Ten replied around the slice, waggling his eyebrows. Johnny stared at the meat then back at Ten, trying to comprehend what Ten was saying. _Taste it??_ Johnny continued to gape. Did Ten want Johnny to kiss him? Was that it? Was that what Ten was implying…?

Suddenly, Ten cracked up as he finally straightened up, handing the fork to Johnny. “Just kidding!” he grinned.

Through the sluggish fog, Johnny sat there dumbly as he chewed and watched Ten hop off the bed, refilling both their glasses with what was left in the bottle. _Of course,_ Johnny wanted to laugh at the disappointment settling down on him. _What was I expecting?_ It was just the combination of nostalgia and alcohol making him wistful and weak to Ten’s usual behavior. That was all. _By the time I wake up tomorrow, it’ll all be gone_. He’ll get on that plane—likely with a hangover, but he’ll be on his way back to Korea and busy with work once more, wiping away this drunken blip of quiet sentiment.

“Here.” Johnny looked up to see a half-filled wine glass. “There wasn’t much left,” Ten explained as he held up his own similarly lacking glass. With a shrug, Johnny took it from him. “Cheers to a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” Ten clinked their glasses together with a grin.

“Cheers to your new group too,” Johnny tried to smile as he wrestled with the disappointment sinking down on him. Quickly, they finished off the bit that was left and went back to idly picking at their food while staring at whatever was on the TV.

“I’m really happy for you, you know?” Johnny turned to Ten as he chewed. “You’ve been waiting for a group for a while and now you finally have one.” There had been so many issues preventing Ten from being placed in a proper subunit of his own over the years. Johnny had long since given up on trying to keep up with the logistics of It, but now all the issues were finally resolved and Ten was going to finally get the debut he deserved.

“Yeah,” Ten gave him a wide, cheery smile. “I’m happy too.”

“How’s Chinese lessons going?” Johnny stacked the empty plates on the tray and set it on the table.

Ten made a face, lips curling up into a grimace. “It’s okay. Way better than Korean at least.”

“Yeah?” Johnny chuckled at him remembering how hard it’d been for Ten when Johnny had first met him. Back then, Johnny was naïve to how difficult the Korean language was. He had lucked out by already being familiar with the sounds and the complicated cultural nuances just through his parents alone, but over the years he had come to really learn and appreciate just how wildly different everything was from English. “You have Winwin and Kun at least.”

“Yep,” Ten nodded, stretching out on the bed. “I wish we were in the same group though.”

“That would’ve been a lot of fun,” Johnny quietly smiled. He and Ten used to lay awake at night picturing what it’d be like to finally debut. They fantasized about their group name, who would be with them, the kind of songs they’d make, and more. Ten was always the main dancer and singer in their dreams of course. He had already been picturing it well before Johnny had met him, steadily working at it while he still lived in Thailand. As for Johnny, he was perfectly happy with doing anything and everything as long as he was up on stage or on TV. What he was after was never singing nor dancing, but the fame instead. He wanted the notoriety and popularity—see his names on signs, hear his name on lips, see his face on TV. Now, they were both well on their way to living out their dreams. The only difference was that they weren’t in the same group.

“Maybe we could’ve still been roommates,” Ten quietly murmured. “Maybe that way we’d still be together.”

Johnny froze, heart thumping in his chest. _What did he just say?_ Was he just misunderstanding Ten once more? _But what else could he mean?_ Maybe he just heard him wrong. Maybe he was just way more drunk than he had realized. Maybe Ten was way more drunk than he thought. There was no way that Ten could mean what Johnny thought he meant. _Yes, that’s it_ , Johnny slowly turned to look at Ten. _I just had a bit too much to drink. That’s all_. Yet one look at Ten’s face and Johnny knew that this time there was absolutely no misunderstanding at all.

No longer were Ten’s eyes glazed and unfocused as he fixatedly stared up at the ceiling. In fact, they hadn’t been that way for the past ten minutes. His delicate thin lips were drawn into a taut line as he pursed his lips, jaw flexing and twitching as the few seconds Johnny took to answer stretched out into eternity.

“What,” Johnny swallowed trying to keep his tone light and cheery, “What do you mean by that?” He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high after the little drunken stunt Ten had pulled with the food earlier, but up it went anyway. He couldn’t help it. Up until now, the only thing that had prevented Johnny from acting upon his feelings was that he was truly perfectly content with the way things were like—especially when his time as a trainee had been so horrible. Being this happy was more than he could ever hope for and he wasn’t greedy for more. Until now, that is. Whatever this was, whatever was happening now—it was changing something. Just what, Johnny wasn’t sure yet, but something was changing whether he liked it or not.  

Instead of answering Johnny, Ten only gave him a long, blank look. The usual sharp ferocity in his gaze was replaced by a dull flatness as he turned to his side, facing away from him.

“Ten,” tendrils of unwanted desperation began to creep up on Johnny, “What do you mean?” But still, there was nothing but silence. _Maybe Ten still loves me_ , the small thought wormed its way through the crack in their friendship. Johnny could sense it—the stirring of his slumbering feelings.

“Ten, please,” Johnny carefully placed a hand on Ten’s arm, feeling it tense beneath him. “It’s been three years, Ten. You can’t do this to me now,” Johnny murmured. How was he supposed to feel about Ten now? How was he supposed to keep these feelings quiet after this?

Finally, Ten stirred but only enough to clutch at Johnny’s hand. Encouraged, Johnny gently turned him, heart dropping at the sheen of tears running down his face. “Ten…” Johnny murmured, hands balling into a fist. If only he could just reach out and dry that precious face. If only he could just pull Ten against his chest and hold him like he used to. He wanted to soothe that pain away, make that anguish disappear, but things were much more complicated than that. There was no picking up from where they left off three years ago. Not like this.

“Why’d you have to leave me back then?” Ten quietly asked, fresh tears running down his face. “Why couldn’t we have just stayed together?”

A course of guilt shot through Johnny as he dropped his gaze. “I had to,” Johnny bit his lip. There was just no way around it. No way at all. He had wracked his mind back then both before and after the fact, trying to see if there was any other possibility where he could’ve just _stayed_ only to come up with the same conclusion over and over again: no he could not. The Johnny back then had been too broken up inside and staying together would’ve just meant ruin and disaster for the two of them.

Ten chuckled and Johnny looked up to see him swiping his face with the back of his hand as he stared up at the ceiling. “What am I saying?” he hoarsely laughed between sniffles. “I know why you had to leave. I’m just…,” Ten took a deep breath in and heavily sighed, shoulders collapsing as he continued looking at anything else but Johnny. “Sometimes I just wish I never met you.”

The words had been so quiet over the traffic and TV that Johnny almost didn’t hear it, but hear it he did and with it was a punch in the gut that set his mind reeling even through its sluggish stupor. “What do you mean by that?” Johnny choked out. Even in his most pessimistic times he never regretted meeting Ten. Not now. Not ever. But Ten? “I thought things were fine like this,” he whispered.

“I’m just sick of you,” Ten murmured. But the grip on Johnny’s hand tightened. “I’m sick of hearing your voice and I’m sick of seeing your face. Hell, sometimes I’m even sick of just hearing your name,” he hollowly replied, each sentence another jab to Johnny’s heart. “More than that though, I’m sick of me,” he turned to face Johnny then, teary smile on his face. “Why does it have to be like this?”

Johnny could barely see now, his vision blurry from the tears welling up in his eyes. Each breath grew labored as his nose began clogging up. Even talking was difficult as the sobs threatened to spill out. “I don’t know, Ten,” Johnny croaked out. “I missed you so much back then. I thought about you every day. _Every day_. Even now,” a tear slid down his face. “I could never forget about you even if I tried—even if we’re supposed to be friends. I just can’t forget. I could never forget. I still lo-”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Ten gasped out, nails digging into Johnny’s palm. He was trembling now, locking Johnny’s hand in an iron grip as if it was the only thing grounding him down. “Don’t _say_ those words.”

“Then what am I supposed to say?” Johnny whispered. “What am I supposed to _do_? Three fucking years, Ten. **_Three_**. There was never a day I didn’t think of you. Never a day where I could forget. But I thought I was fine that way. I thought _we_ were fine.”

It had been a hard three years too. Every single hour was spent trying to reign his mind away from Ten as he did his best to keep up with their merciless training but come night time, he’d go back to that empty room and immediately sink onto the floor sobbing. With time, things grew easier and easier, but never did Johnny totally forget what they once had been.

“You even finally have a group too,” Johnny tried to snort, but out came a pained laugh instead. “Fuck, you have a group,” he hung his head, another tear running down his face. A subunit for Ten meant more work for him and work for him meant that there were even less of a chance for Johnny to see him now. Less time to spend together. Johnny’s chest tightened. “How am I going to see you now?” Johnny quietly asked. “When will I get to see you?”

At that, Ten began to cry. Not just tear up as he had been before, but a full body wracking sob that he tried to futilely muffle with a hand clasped over his mouth. Each choked howl was even worse a weapon spearing Johnny’s heart and twisting until Johnny could no longer take it anymore. He pulled Ten into a tight embrace, burrowing his head into Ten’s hair like he used to do, squeezing his eyes shut against the weak arms trying to tear at his grip. Clearly, the charade was over and their prizes were their yearning, bruised hearts.

Eventually, Ten’s weeping died down to a quiet sniffle. He had long since given up on fighting Johnny, turning around in his arms to snuggle up against his chest instead. It was almost a familiar comfort for Johnny hearing the quiet rhythm of Ten’s breathing and the soft shuffle of sheets. He could even hear the steady beat of Ten’s heart whenever the room grew quiet enough, but the reality was anything but sweet.

“What now?” the muffled words floated up.

“I don’t know,” Johnny quietly replied, lightly tracing circles onto Ten’s back and smiling into his hair when Ten curled up even closer. It was just yet another thing they used to do back in that old room of theirs.

“I’m scared,” Ten muttered. “Debuting again scares me.”

Johnny paused before giving him a small smile. For several months now, Ten had only ever shown him excitement and enthusiasm as he worked hard at preparing for WayV and for the longest time he had Johnny convinced by his sheer ardor. But then one day Johnny realized that that was all Ten had been showing him. Usually Ten was quick to complain about something he was struggling with just to let off some steam before going straight back to work, but not this time. Johnny rarely heard so much as a peep. Now that he thought about it, he got most of his news about how Ten was doing through their friends rather than directly from Ten himself. Ten simply told him _what_ he was doing and how happy he was instead of _how_ he was doing. Now, Johnny knew the reason for that.

Quietly, Johnny reached up to Ten’s hair and smoothed it out, feeling the thick strands of silk in between his fingers. “Yeah,” he murmured. “That must be scary, especially in China. But you’ve done it once before. You can do it again,” he moved onto raking his hand through his hair, “You’re the great Chittaphon after all. Plus, the others will be there to help you out.”

“But you won’t be,” Ten pointed out as he leaned back.

He couldn’t say anything to that. “Yeah,” Johnny sighed out as he pushed the hair from Ten’s eyes, “You’re right.” With Ten growing busy with work and Johnny’s schedule for January and February already filled up, he wasn’t sure when he’d get to see Ten again. He was already seeing him less and less as the weeks went by—even at the dance studios and in the hallways. The breaks in their schedules rarely coincided; Ten was almost only free most evenings, but that was when Johnny had the radio show to go do.

“Make me forget,” Ten looked up at Johnny with a tear stained face. A gust of wind kicked up sending the curtains fluttering and some papers scattering in the room. Neither of them moved.

Johnny stared down at Ten, heart lurching. _‘Make me forget’?_ There was no mistaking what Ten was implying, but still he hesitated because if he did, there’d be no way of going back to pretending that they were simply friends. They had their careers and family to think about, their friends that the rumors would affect, the gossip that would plague them should they be found out. Old worries of Johnny’s that now fell flat and deaf on his ears when the only thing that had ever made him happiest was right in front of him. “H-how?” Johnny carefully asked, wondering if Ten could hear the flutter in his chest.

“Kiss me,” he murmured. That expression was on Ten’s face—the one reserved just for Johnny. He hadn’t seen it ever since the day he left Ten behind in that room, but now here it was again, a ghost of the past come to haunt him. “Kiss me and make me forget this night.”

_That’s a bad idea_ , Johnny wanted to tell Ten, but the words wouldn’t come out. That intense gaze that he’d grown used to seeing over the years was replaced by its hidden softhearted, vulnerable twin. Gone too was that sarcastic smirk on Ten’s lips. instead, those fine delicate lips were parted into a small childish droop as he continued to gaze up at Johnny, inky eyes a shiny pool.

“Please,” he insisted, smooth delicate hands reaching up to cup Johnny’s face. “Please kiss me.”

Just like that, Johnny’s last bit of hesitance disappeared as he slowly leaned in, tilting Ten’s chin up as he kissed him chaste and uncertain at first before gasping as Ten pressed up against him. “I said, make me forget,” Ten murmured onto his lips before kissing Johnny with so much fervor and desperation that Johnny grew dizzy with realization at how much Ten must have missed him and how much debuting must have horrified him.

Quickly, they fell into their familiar old rhythm as their bodies melded into one another’s in a dance they’ve done hundreds of times before. Just like back then, each kiss from Ten left Johnny breathless and lightheaded—a type of drunkenness of its own that made him light on his feet and his heart bursting with joy. They were rookies once more discovering each other anew with probing lips and curious hands. Johnny licked at Ten’s wine-stained mouth both smelling and tasting that faint hint of tart sweetness and the remnants of dinner as he snaked his tongue in. It was frantic slide of tongues then, breathless and messy, urgent and demanding after being separated for far too long.

The slick sounds and muffled sighs disappeared beneath the cacophony of late-night traffic and the chattering of TV as they lost themselves in each other, exploring and acquainting themselves with the things that changed over the years. It was a strange feeling really. Ten was still Ten with his long strands of obsidian hair, but his face was different now—more angular and masculine, chiseled and sculpted into further perfection by age. Still, there was a hint of his old boyishness in his cheeks and in the way his eyes danced as he looked up at Johnny with utter trust.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, eyes fluttering shut as Johnny licked and nipped at his neck. Ten’s skin still tasted the same: warm and syrupy sweet like sunshine. He was also just as lean and lithe as he was before, but there was a hint of muscle hiding beneath his deceptively slender frame. Where Ten’s neck used to be smooth a delicate slope, there was now a jut of muscle that fascinated Johnny as he trailed a line of kisses along it up to Ten’s jaw.

“Yeah?” Johnny paused at Ten’s ears, wondering just how he should play with them. Over the years Ten had gotten more and more piercings until Johnny finally gave up trying to keep up with them all. It seemed that every time they met up, there was yet another earring added onto his growing collection. Gently, Johnny licked at Ten’s ear delighting in the loud hiss he got in return.

It was a relief how things were still the same no matter how much time had passed. Once every couple of months or so, Johnny would find himself wandering the deep recesses of his mind as he laid awake in bed pondering how things would be like if they had stayed together or even went back to what they once were. However, his fantasies would almost always ultimately begin slipping down that dark hole as he thought about it. Deep down inside, Johnny had always been afraid. He was afraid of finding out that Ten was a totally different person and he was afraid of their precarious friendship crumbling down despite logic telling him otherwise. But seeing the way how Ten still clutched onto him as he twitched and gasped, how he hung on so naturally even after all these years—it brought Johnny an immense comfort.

“God,” Ten slinked his arms around him as he buried his head against Johnny’s chest. “Has it really been that long?” he shuddered as Johnny slipped his callused hand beneath his shirt, roughened palms catching his skin every now and then. “It feels like we were just fucking yesterday,” he unthinkingly sighed. A mistake.

The split-second stare Johnny gave him stretched out as he drunkenly gazed down, eyes growing stormy by the millisecond as blood rushed from his head straight down to his groin. “Don’t say it like that,” Johnny hoarsely mumbled, shifting around in bed. It had been way too long since Johnny last jerked off let alone fucked Ten and his dick was twitching with more than just interest.

Ten leaned back and looked up at Johnny, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Don’t say what like that?” he questioned, tracing Johnny’s pouty lips with both his eyes and a finger. “That it feels like we were just fucking yesterday? Should I say that I missed your cock instead?” he flicked his eyes up, grinning at Johnny’s sharp intake of breath. “Or,” he kept his gaze on Johnny’s, finger wiggling between Johnny’s lips until he parted them to lick Ten’s finger, “Should I say that I missed having your cock fucking my ass wide open?”

“Goddamnit,” Johnny growled at him, fingers digging bright red crescents into Ten’s back. “Are you trying to drive me insane?” he ignored Ten’s wince of pain.

“M-maybe,” Ten breathlessly admitted, face scrunching up when Johnny suddenly let go and yanked at his hair, forcing Ten to look up at him.

Johnny glowered at him, eyes steadily drilling into Ten’s but Ten didn’t drop his gaze. Instead, he challenged Johnny back with his own glare, dusty pink on his cheeks growing crimson with each passing second. They laid there like that for a few moments locked in an unblinking standstill as their chests heaved and the cars continued to honk below.

“Damn you,” Johnny hissed, roughly shoving Ten flat on his back and straddling his legs as he grabbed his head to kiss him. Ten squirmed around trying to free himself from beneath Johnny, but Johnny had grown even more muscular and heavier over the years making it that much harder for Ten to shove him off. So, he did the only thing he could do. He wrapped his arms around Johnny’s neck and clamped down on Johnny’s lower lip.

“ _Motherfucker_ ,” Johnny hissed, swiping his lip as he sat up. No blood thankfully, but it was already throbbing with pain. He made a move to grab at Ten’s arms, but he was still too uncoordinated and clumsy from the alcohol, hands slipping as Ten managed to free himself.

They panted at each other, evening breeze rapidly chilling their fevered skin. “Do you know how much I missed you?” Ten quietly asked, crawling onto Johnny’s lap and snatching his warmth as he wrapped his arms around Johnny’s shoulders. “Do you know how fucking hard it was for me? Do you?”

Johnny looked up at Ten, grimacing when he brushed his rapidly swelling lip with a thumb. “No,” Johnny dropped his gaze, bangs falling into his face as guilt snaked up around him. Never once in all these years had he ever considered how things were for Ten; he’d always been too caught up in his own head to notice how Ten was taking it and as the years passed by, he was simply too busy.

_No,_ his cheeks grew flush with shame, _That’s wrong_. Somewhere in his haze of memories, there was Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Taeyong each approaching and asking him about Ten on separate occasions. Johnny had always excused not knowing nor caring with battling his own demons when really, he was just too cowardly. He didn’t _want_ to know how Ten was handling things; the remorse was just too much for him so he avoided it.

“Didn’t think so,” Ten forced him to look up, brushing the golden-brown locks aside. “It was so hard in the beginning, Johnny. So hard. I had to lock myself in the bathroom all day just so no one would see me crying,” he murmured, combing through Johnny’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny mumbled. From behind him, the audience on the TV broke out into a chorus of laughter—a taunting, mocking sound that made him want to curl up beneath the blankets out of embarrassment. There was a distinct chatter of Thai followed by only the quiet rumble of late evening traffic as Ten reached for the controller and turned it off.

“I’m not mad at you,” he put the remote away before gently cupping Johnny’s face in his smooth palms, resting his forehead against Johnny’s and overwhelming him with the scent of verbena and coconut. “I just wish things could be different,” he murmured, gazing at Johnny.

At this close of a distance, Johnny could make out each individual eyelash framing Ten’s eyes: long, slender hairs that twitched and fluttered as Ten continued to stare at him. There were fine lines beneath his eyes too—ones that Johnny didn’t remember seeing back then. He sighed, shoulders drooping as he leaned into Ten, wrapping his arms around his slender waist. “I do too. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Ten murmured, “I do.”

That was the first time in all those years that he and Ten had finally actually talked about what had happened. It had always been their own personal elephant in the room—an unwanted palpable existence known only to the two of them. It prowled around stalking them as they went about their lives acting as if everything was totally fine and normal between the two of them. At times, they even managed to convince themselves of their own farce, but it didn’t last. It never lasted.

It was simply too difficult for either of them to breech the topic. After all, how would they even start? Where would they start? What would they say? It was just too daunting of an ordeal, so they left it alone as an unwanted mutual agreement that just happened. Each time they were out together, the elephant was there sitting at the back of their minds as they played friends laughing and joking. Each time they passed by one another in the halls, it’d jump to the forefront of their thoughts catching them off guard as they stiffly grinned and greeted one another. It was even there when they weren’t together, flittering around the edges whenever they got a text.

In fact, they had spent so long dancing around each other that their waltz gradually turned into a normal part of their friendship. It was yet another quirk tacked onto their growing list of oddities that had them so attached to one another. However after Thailand, everything changed once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should drink more.
> 
> title namesake: [major lazer - be together (vanic remix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/24DLQ6ZTEmiuRLTe6zKgJx) ([yt](https://youtu.be/71rSc6LXlSo))  
> also influenced by: [dmno, sub urban - sick of you](https://open.spotify.com/track/5QHnugYt2n8sLiKfAADwJ5) ([yt](https://youtu.be/NpTprYAPqJY))
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)


	18. Don't Know What to Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you have my good friend tokkaeng for sending me [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYlgadIbH1M) which basically hijacked the ending and turned it into something that i did not intend. with that said, this chapter basically took on a life of it's own. you've been warned.

The evening rush hour had died down to a soft murmur of rumbling tires as the chatter of hungry crowds grew loud. The people stood in long lines around busy vendors, impatiently waiting as their stomachs loudly grumbled at the promise of food. Sweat dripped down the foreheads of the hawkers—a combination of heat, humidity, and exertion as they stood over piping hot woks and propane fueled grills, hands ever busy as they chopped at vegetables, sliced raw meat, threw in spices and then some. The line of starving people crept forward one by one, each receiving a plastic plate of piping hot food and taking it to jammed packed tables where they hurriedly crammed their mouths full, clearing their plates faster than it took to make. Every now and then, a burst of shouts and whistling would cut through over all the noise as police signaled cars through the busy intersections in a weak attempt to clear out the congestion that still clung on.

The sheer off-white curtains fluttered beneath the heavier forest green ones as the evening breeze carried the noise into the hotel. Yet to the two inside, it was all but silent. The hushed sighs slipped between Johnny’s lips and into Ten’s as Ten pressed against him, his heartbeat a quivering wisp against Johnny’s own wild tremble. As they kissed, the chatter and savory scents melted away, replaced by the quiet rustle of leaves and that dizzying scent of coconut verbena on Ten’s hair as they lost themselves in one another, a world of their own.

Ten’s skin was hot and sticky against Johnny’s, heat radiating off of him and mingling with the rest of the oppressive muggy air in Thailand but strangely, Johnny didn’t mind it. There was something comforting having Ten’s weight straddled down on his lap. Something carnal about the way the backs of Ten’s thighs stuck to Johnny’s as Ten wrapped those slender legs of his around him. With every sweaty kiss, Johnny grew drunker than he already was until all that was left were those sweet velvety lips against his own and a shared breath as they melded together.

Another press of those heavenly lips and Johnny was feeling faint and light-headed, giddy with the purest of joy as he floated higher and higher, the bed vanishing into nothing as he drifted amongst the skies. It had been so long since he last kissed Ten. So, so long that his memories of that taste and that feel had long since grown hazy from the cruelty of time muddying those precious memories. But one kiss was all it took before they all came rushing back in a whirling mess, zipping and swirling around in such vivid pictures that Johnny no longer knew whether it was the heat or Ten causing the hallucinations.

Nor did it help that he was so needy for Ten’s touch. Each patch of that golden skin against his own left him breathless, his withered heart greedily lapping up the sensations. He was tingling with a heady rush of relief, the thrill of finally getting what he’d been craving coursing through his veins, burning his already fevered skin. It was as if every single fiber of his being was on fire—an inferno surging along his nerves right down to the tips of his fingers and toes, furious and starving after being forced into an unwanted abstinence. Yet the blaze paled in comparison to Ten’s. At Ten’s ever demanding insistence, Johnny tilted his head to the side as Ten pressed up even closer against him, refusing to part from Johnny for even just half a second.

Those elegant fingers of Ten’s scalded him as he dug them into his shoulders; those legs were suffocating in the way they coiled up around him, trapping Johnny in a silent plea of desperation and anguish. Ten licked at Johnny’s bottom lip, a soft, wet sensation that sent a shiver going straight down to his dick and when Ten tugged on it and sucked it between those delicate lips of his-

Johnny groaned, a long and ragged sound that was safely muted by the bustle outside. That mix of pain from his swollen lip and the euphoria from Ten’s tongue combined with the torrid heat had him feeling a whole new kind of high he’d never felt before, sluggish and airy all at once.

Suddenly, the high-pitched giggles just outside their room from passing guests jolted Ten from his reverie and he jerked back, eyes wide, whipping his head towards the door. Johnny slowly blinked, befuddled by the sudden loss before his inebriated brain belatedly registered what had startled Ten. With a small frown, he glanced between the door and Ten’s panic-stricken face, gingerly cradling his lip. Ten had caught it with his teeth when he turned away and it was now angrily throbbing.

Ten’s reaction had been just the slightest bit of strange. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t been caught off guard before, whether it was from laughter just like that from the other guys or an unexpected knock late at while Johnny was buried balls deep inside of Ten. Back then, it was usually met with a jump of surprise as their hearts leapt out of their chests followed by a peel of breathy giggles or a giddy delirium as they scrambled for their clothes. Sometimes it was a tad riskier—standing outside the door butt naked and talking through the thin piece of wood while Ten had his arms wrapped around him, jerking him off and forcing Johnny to speak through the pleasure. But now all of Ten’s attention zeroed in on the door, his body tense and breaths shallow—the very picture of a cornered animal.

“Ten?” Johnny quietly prompted. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Ten dragged his eyes from the door back to Johnny’s and Johnny’s heart lurched to a stop, his breath caught in his throat from what he saw.

Those inky eyes. Those wonderful, beautiful inky eyes that Johnny had stared into thousands of times before. Those magnetic eyes now tortured and stormy full of nothing but a flat look of hopeless misery that had Johnny reeling back. There was just a certain something to it—a blank sort of bleakness, a kind of helplessness that crushed Johnny beneath that heart-shattering gaze. If Ten had looked at him with any other expression—heartache, fury, bitterness—literally _anything_ else, Johnny would’ve been able to deal with it.

His heart clenched as it sank down to the pit of his stomach, an old mocking sensation slinking its tendrils around him.  Even that despairing look that Ten had given him when he walked out their room that one night all those years ago was a walk in the park compared to _this_. This look on Ten froze Johnny in place anchoring him down with just a hollow gaze, his heart a featherweight pitter patter that was more like a thudding in his chest that made him quiver just the slightest bit with each beat. Gone was that brightness that always danced just behind the intensity of Ten’s stare. So too was that calculating look that would pop up from time to time whenever Ten was faced with uncertain circumstances. Instead, Ten simply looked without seeing. His eyes were a dull, matte ebony—a gaze of defeat and surrender, resignation and acquiescence. A look that wasn’t Ten and that, that’s what had Johnny wanting to collapse upon his knees, tears streaming down his face as he howled and screeched at the unfairness of it all.

_Why are you doing this to us?_ he wanted to wail up at the skies. It was just an all too familiar thing to Johnny. _What’s so wrong about wanting to be together?_ he wanted to beseech. They had such an innocent desire after all. But most of all, Johnny just wanted to ask why. Why did Ten have to be involve in this? Why did Ten have to suffer too? Johnny could handle pain and torture. _God_ could he handle pain and torture after all those years as a trainee but seeing Ten go through it opened a fresh wound that Johnny didn’t know how to deal with.

This was a Ten who had given up all hope. A Ten who feared what was to come rather than bask in the delight of the chaotic unknown. A Ten who didn’t know how to rescue himself from the storm that was plaguing him and that helplessness had Johnny shaken up. Ever since he had first met him, Ten was just Ten. Willful. Brazen. Courageous. There was always a quip sitting on those fine lips ready to snark at the difficulty of life, a steadfastness in the nonchalance of folded arms and crossed legs as he lounged in a chair in the midst of pre-stage nerves. Now, the roles were reversed and Johnny had to be the dependable one out of the two, but he wasn’t Ten. He couldn’t pull off that dignified air of self-assurance. He couldn’t silence people with a mere gaze like Ten could. All Johnny knew how to do was bunker down and take the beatings from life, weathering the storm and waiting for it to pass.

Johnny felt a shiver in his arms and glanced down at a huddled Ten. By now, the sun was well beneath the horizon and the stars were twinkling high above—mysterious, distant planets far, far away from Johnny’s own. Worlds where he and Ten might be happy. The breeze was no longer a respite from the oppressive wet heat that still remained, but a friend turned foe as Ten’s body turned against him wracking him with chill after chill, allowing that greedy gust to snatch at his warmth. Johnny glanced at the blankets debating if he should wrap it around the two of them or even just grab their clothes instead, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Ten. He couldn’t let go of Ten. So he stayed there instead, wrapping his arms Ten and pulling him flush against his chest in an attempt to both fend off the cold and the demons haunting Ten.

_Was this how it was like for Ten?_ Johnny squeezed his eyes shut against Ten’s hair as he rubbed at that goose bumped skin. It was cool to the touch beneath his own burning hand. Did Ten feel this way whenever Johnny had stared at him dejectedly? Did he feel this sorrow, this pity? It’s was a kind of hopelessness in its own right. Not one that felt like drowning beneath turbulent waters where the waves battered and tumbled him until he no longer knew where up and down were. Instead, it was one where he was forced to watch as he stood on dry land, torn between diving in in a sympathetic show of bravado or instinctively remain for his own survival.

Little by little, the gust began to let up until the only trace that was left was the occasional ripple throughout the room that came and went at the slightest drop of his guard. In a way, it was an unsaid warning of sorts. Silent, yet ever watchful—a warning that seemed to echo all the other ones that Johnny had heard time and time again. Whether it was from mother nature herself or some other almighty power Johnny didn’t know, but the displeasure was there all the same as it was back then.

_Stay away,_ a voice would whisper in his ear whenever he was at his lowest. It was so sweet, so loving; so full of that tenderness that he had so badly craved. That voice was liquid honey, warm and soothing like a steaming hot cup of tea on a frosty winter’s day as it cautioned him about the perils of falling in love, telling him tales of being tossed aside like an old, dirty rag. It showed him pictures of him as a blubbering fool, huddled beneath the blankets as he bawled his eyes out after being hurt just like it told him. It painted images of him lingering outside practice rooms waiting for Ten only to be scorned as he was ignored, not even graced with a single look or a smile as Ten brushed past him.

In reality however, that voice had been more like pyrite—fool’s gold. It fed Johnny lie after of false promises to keep him safe from harm when it was the awaiting siren singing its sweet lullaby as it enticed him further and further into the murky waters.

_He doesn’t really love you_ , it told him at first and he believed it, for a time anyway. After all, Ten’s revelation of his feelings could’ve easily just been a dream of Johnny’s, but as it turned out that siren had just lied to him.

_it won’t work out,_ it tried next. _You have nothing to offer, nothing to give. Not even a debut_ , it hit him where it hurt most, desperate to plunge him in the darkness where it could cradle him close and hold him tight. But Ten, Ten had been his sunlight and that breath of fresh air between the turbulent waves of his own mind. He saw that hand of Ten’s reaching out for him, just begging him to grasp it and pull himself out and Johnny did. But that siren was seductive as it called out to Johnny with a voice so sweet and ethereal that just the slightest crack in Johnny’s armor and he was back in that dismal place, choking and drowning.

_You’ll just get hurt and regret it,_ it tried next, but Johnny had shoved it aside and ignored it. He was happy where he was, but the siren was seductive as it continued to call out to him with a voice so gentle and ethereal as it sought out his weaknesses, breaking him with them.

_See?_ it gently wrapped its arms around him in a callous, loving embrace. _It’s better here. Leaving will just hurt you. Stay._ Its solid flesh was a cool warmth against his back as he hung there limp and barely even breathing. _You’re simply not meant to be. Let him go_. It was a protective cage, safety behind iron bars. Venomous words wrapped and dressed in a neat little parcel called love and care. Each time he caved into its song, he lost a little of himself. Each time he leant that voice an ear and allowed it to worm its way in, he felt a little piece of his heart break off. Bit by bit he cracked until all that was left was so fragmented that he couldn’t pull himself back together again. The only thing that helped was Ten and even then, Johnny had chased him away.

Eventually, Johnny saw the siren for what it really was—a wily grotesque monster that he freed himself from doing whatever he could to escape. He thrashed and he swam. He kicked and he screamed. He deafened himself to its voice as he fought the waves until finally, finally land was in sight. Now, he stood on solid ground hearing its faint song forever the nasty reminder as it enticed him back into its clutches, but Johnny refused. _Never again_ , he told himself.

But now it turned an eye onto Ten instead. Ten who had been that shining beacon of light, a bright beam cutting through the stormy seas that Johnny sailed on. Ten who captained the ship on those choppy waves, courageous and self-assured, rebellious in the way he ignored what life willed for the two of them. Ten who had stayed with him on that sinking ship even as it was rapidly flooding, their bailing more of an expected gesture rather than an actual attempt at rescuing themselves. Ten who was now none of that as he sat slumped over Johnny.

Johnny stared out the window, the pang in his chest a quiet reverberation as it sank down around him. The night sky was wonderfully clear today, the moon a soft golden crescent. He used to sit at the window late at night during those hot sleepless summer nights just staring at the sky. Beads of sweat would drip down his body as they were now, slowly drying in the intense wet heat and turning him into a tacky mess. Despite that, he was far from feeling like sluggish sludge. He was far too busy making wishes on those beautiful stars whose brilliance promised him his deepest desires.

_Just let us be happy_ , he requested with a chest full of innocent hope and optimism. That’s all he wanted from the cosmos. But they ignored his prayer, almost mockingly in how they continued to gleam and dazzle like the frigid gems they were. It was just a teeny tiny desire, pure and sincere. But instead he and Ten were more like Romeo and Juliet forced apart by a will that was greater than their own, star-crossed lovers banished to forever drift in the bleak emptiness of space while those uncaring stars continued to taunt them.

Unthinkingly, he bit down on his lip only to immediately regret his habit as a jolt of pain shot through him. But that searing ripple was just the very thing he needed. All at once, the old familiar rustle of leaves and the off-white walls of their too small room melted away as the bustle of the night city roared in his ears. He stared at the neon signs and the streaks of car lights, brows furrowed and a surge of fury gripping him. It was just all so unfair, really. All he had ever wanted out of life was to just be happy. Make somebody out of himself that wasn’t bound to a dull life of college and work, find somebody to fall in love with. Was that simply too greedy of him? Did life just hate him that much?

_‘Make me forget.’_ Those words that had been uttered in what seemed like eons ago now rang loud and clear once more. It had torn his heart apart seeing that tearstained face looking up at him, but now all Johnny could feel was a bitter indignance at life. He clenched his fists as he glared out at the sky, shallow breaths and dripping sweat fueling his rage. Johnny didn’t want to forget. He wanted to remember. He wanted to remember what it was like to have Ten in his arms on a lazy summer afternoon just like this, too hot and sticky to stay cuddling, yet too lethargic to do anything about it.  He wanted to remember what it was like to see that look of simple contentment on that dignified face of his, the knowledge that only he made Ten that happy his greatest accomplishment in life. But more than that right at this moment, he wanted to remember what Ten’s body felt like.

Johnny unclasped his hands from Ten’s waist, raking them down along the outside of his thighs fascinated by the sinewy muscle hiding beneath. That indent running along the sides wasn’t there before and Johnny pressed his fingers into it, eyes narrowing when he felt the slightest twitch from Ten. He sank his fingers into that flesh once more, this time receiving a soft sigh of satisfaction. Carefully, Johnny crept his hands up an inch at a time, keeping his ears fixated on the quiet sounds as he squeezed his long fingers into each new patch of skin, holding them there just long enough to hear a murmur before moving on.

By the time finally reached Ten’s ass, he could feel Ten’s growing boner against his stomach twitching and jerking just the slightest bit as Johnny continued his massage. Still, Ten made no movement. He didn’t try to hide his arousal, didn’t try to readjust his position on Johnny’s lap, didn’t even look up at Johnny when he sank his thumbs into that crook between his thighs and groin. Nothing. Just a ragged moan, a hitched breath, and a twitch of his dick.

It was only when Johnny finally cupped his ass did he get any reaction at all. At first, he just squeezed and kneaded those cheeks pulling them apart and listening to the lewd stick of sweaty skin as Ten grew fevered once more. With each squeeze Ten tensed up around him. The pressure of Johnny’s hands on his ass was the perfect amount of pressure that caused him to rub up against Johnny—a fact Johnny quickly caught onto. The murmur of slick sounds soon joined the rest of the noises as Ten leaked precum on Johnny, his quiet sighs turned into choked gasps as he finally lifted his head to stare at Johnny with his face flushed a rosy pink. He glared at Johnny, or at least he tried to. It was hard to see Johnny through that haze of pleasure clouding his sight.

“S-stop teasing,” Ten tried to grumble at him. But out it came more like a whiny complaint as Johnny roughly pulled him in, his vision blanking out as a shudder ran down his spine. Johnny smirked at Ten pleased by the reaction he got, but he wasn’t done yet. He wanted more. Johnny licked at his parched lips, tasting the faint bit of saltiness on his upper lip. There was a tickling sensation on the side of his neck as a bead of sweat slid down and Johnny briefly considered getting up and finally closing the windows instead of just letting the conditioning run pointlessly, but just one look at those glassy eyes and the thought disappeared.

With his gaze on Ten, he hunched forward and wrapped an arm around him trapping him in a sweaty embrace. Ever so slowly, he leaned in until his lips were barely brushing against Ten’s ear, his hot breath sending a tremble of anticipation through Ten. “Make me,” Johnny huskily cooed out a challenge, pressing a dry finger against Ten’s rim at the same time and delighting as Ten rutted up against him, eyes flying wide open and hands scrambling across his back. Bit by bit, that siren’s grasp on Ten was beginning to loosen as that hopelessness crumpled beneath the weight of hunger and desire as Johnny continued toying with him. The only trace that was left of its sweet seduction was the quiet uncertainty in how Ten held himself, stiff and unmoving as he clung onto Johnny.

Johnny frowned. He had gotten a reaction, yes, but it wasn’t the one he wanted. He was expecting that spark in those sharp eyes as Ten took Johnny on, but it was almost as if Ten was holding himself back. Johnny pressed down harder, slowly moving his finger in a small circle all the while trapping the squirming Ten against his chest. It wasn’t enough force to push in. That wasn’t Johnny’s intention. What he wanted was to remind Ten of what his cock felt like lined up right against him and remember Ten did, panting and rutting up against Johnny, eyes squeezed shut and quiet moans pouring from those lips as he found himself pushing back against that hand.

No. Ten was definitely holding himself back and his body was the only thing betraying his true desires.  But instead of the twinges of sorrow he had been feeling this entire evening there was only the quiet resentment towards life. _No more_. Johnny’s raked his hands up to Ten’s jaw, holding his face in between his palms for a moment as he studied those glossy eyes and parted lips, frowning to himself. Things weren’t supposed to be this way. They were supposed to be happy.

_No more_ , Johnny clenched his jaw. Life, god, some other higher power out there—he didn’t care anymore. He and Ten were supposed to be happy _together_. That much was clear to him now drunk or not. All this heartache, all this misery and for what? There was nothing wrong with what they wanted. There was nothing so disgraceful, so shameful that they should suffer this torture day in and day out. This just wasn’t right.

He loosened his hold on Ten only giving him enough room to lean back as Johnny rested his forehead against his, watching the flutter of those fine lashes as Ten slowly blinked at him. “Remember what you told me back then?” he quietly murmured, feeling that smooth skin beneath his thumb as he gently brushed Ten’s cheek. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

Before Ten could reply, Johnny’s lips were upon his silencing anything he may have to say. Ten remained stiff, but after another moment’s hesitation all that doubt he had been holding onto melted away and he eagerly kissed Johnny back, yanking him down and pulling him even closer than he had already been. Ten’s tongue was a gentle, soft sensation on his swollen lip that sent a tremor of both pain and pleasure going straight down to his dick with every swipe. Just like he’d done earlier, Ten sucked Johnny’s lip between his own making Johnny see stars as he groaned into Ten’s mouth and dug his fingers into Ten’s hips. yanking them in and smirking when he got a grunt in return.

But that smirk soon turned into yet another moan as Ten snaked that tongue of his in and coiled it around Johnny’s all the while panting and sighing with every slide. Each sloppy sound added to the already lewd mix of sticky skin and crude grunts, a filthy orchestra to Johnny’s ears. Then there was that cock still rubbing up against his stomach, but not from Johnny’s doing.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself a little too much,” he raised an eyebrow, digging his fingers into Ten’s hips and licking a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face. Just the slightest bit of saltiness.

“Can’t…help it…” Ten panted out. “Everything just feels so good. You. The heat. Your hands. Your lips. God, I missed it so much.”

“Yeah?” Johnny purred as he reached down. The mix of precum and sweat made the perfect lube as he wrapped a hand around Ten, rapidly reducing him into a mewling mess as Johnny continued to twist and jerk. Already he can sense how close Ten, all those little clues unchanged even after this time. The way his brows arched into a furrow, the way he squeezed his eyes shut, the way he scrunched his nose. But most telling of all however, was the way Johnny’s name turned into a prayer as Ten moaned.

“J-Johnny,” was all Ten had to say before Johnny leaned in to kiss him, hearing that desperate unsaid request in that single word. Almost immediately, Ten tensed up on his lap as he screamed into Johnny’s mouth. Liquid hot fluid splattered across their chests and stomachs before leaking all over Johnny’s hand as Ten bucked his hips into Johnny’s fist, his pleasure stretched even further by the help of Johnny’s pumping hand. Johnny only finally let go of him when Ten weakly pushed at his hand, collapsing against Johnny in a heaving mess as he caught his breath.

Johnny only waited a moment before his hands were on Ten again, roaming his body and smearing semen wherever he touched before gripping Ten’s jaw. “Is that all you have in you?” he quietly asked, his voice a low rumble in Ten’s ear. He didn’t miss that flutter and that spark of lust in those eyes as what was left on Johnny’s hand coated Ten’s face and Johnny held back a smirk. The question he asked was an empty one at best. Johnny already knew what the answer was going to be even before Ten could reply and indeed it was. Ten shook his head no—a tad bit too eagerly, Johnny noted—as he struggled to sit up right. But Johnny had other plans for him slamming him back down against him and using Ten’s weakened state to his advantage as he slicked his fingers with semen. Just as he started wondering what Johnny could possibly be doing, Johnny let go of him only to place a hand on his ass to spread his cheeks apart as he smeared his rim with semen.

“T-that’s filthy,” he gritted out at the jolt coursing through him, clenching from both the cool fluid and hypersensitivity that still remained.

“You’re filthy,” Johnny pointed out with a wry grin that only had Ten’s softening cock twitching in response. A fact that Johnny didn’t miss. “My god,” he looked down at that flushed, sweaty face, “I forgot how many times you can go.”

“Just shut up and get on with it. I want your cock in me.”

With that, silence fell between them as Johnny did as commanded using a mixture of saliva and semen and slowly sliding his hand up and down before finally pressing a finger down in the center and steadily pushing in bit by bit at a time until he was buried all the way to the third knuckle. Only then did he force himself to pause, listening to those shallow pants and feeling that tense body against him. Really, he wanted nothing more then to just hurry the process up and bury his cock in him—especially with how tight Ten was around his finger, but he had to be patient. From that intense look of concentration poking out beneath the pain, Ten wanted nothing more too. 

Those walls eventually relaxed enough for Johnny to give a shallow thrust, taking his time before crooking his finger and twisting it for a minute before adding a second one and repeating that long process of waiting and stretching Ten out. Soon, that searing pain bled into pleasure and Ten was mewling on Johnny’s lap, hips rocking back against Johnny’s.

Something warm and wet slid down Johnny’s back and at first, Johnny thought it was more sweat as usual but when the sensation didn’t stop, he pulled out his fingers and sat back just enough to take a good look at Ten. Almost immediately, all the blood went straight down to Johnny’s cock as it throbbed at the sight before him. Ten was an absolute wreck. His face was flushed a deep shade of crimson spreading down to his neck and chest and those fine lips of his were shiny with spit dribbling down his chin. Those eyes though—Johnny’s heart skipped a beat as those glassy eyes caught sight of his. Ten stared straight at him with such an insatiable hunger that Johnny found himself about to lose his mind at how long this whole thing was taking.

“Christ,” Johnny choked.

“Don’t give me that look,” Ten panted out at him. Johnny watched as a bead of sweat slid down the side of his face to join the trail of wetness around his eyes. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” he huffed between the words. “Do you know how many times I thought about you at night with my dick in my hands wishing it was yours instead? How lonely it felt afterwards how much I cried? Do you?”

Johnny quietly shook his head no, a whirlwind of emotions bubbling up. Arousal, joy, sadness—it was all there at once, but he found himself unable to think through any single one of them. It was simply much too hot for that and Ten was still staring at him with that look in his eyes. “Didn’t think so,” Ten pulled him in by the neck, his fingers slipping through the layer of sweat before his lips were upon Johnny’s. It was a rough sort of kiss, almost angry in its force and lack of any tenderness as that tongue demanded for Johnny’s, quickly shoving its way inside. It was all Johnny could do to keep up with Ten, groaning at the hot slide of tongues and the wet glide of Ten’s chin against his own.

When they broke for air, Johnny found himself instinctively shrinking away from that heavy half-lidded gaze on him. Just like the humidity, there was something stifling about it. He could see the words reflected in those ebony eyes—words that Johnny had always deafened and blinded himself to. Words that always managed to dredge up that sense of shame and guilt he harbored deep within. Another bead of sweat slid down Ten’s face. Johnny wanted to drop his eyes. He wanted to drop his eyes, hide beneath the covers, leave the room even. But he didn’t. Instead, he quietly sat there waiting through the sluggish heat as Ten continued to speak.

 “After I moved out,” those eyes stared straight into Johnny’s, “I cried. I cried and cried and cried until I couldn’t cry anymore.” Each word was a guilt-laden puff of cool air against Johnny’s fevered skin filled him with remorse, yet Johnny didn’t allow himself to look away. He couldn’t look away. He had spent the past few years pretending he didn’t see, cowardly turning a blind eye to those tears and the flashes of heartache whenever Ten thought he wasn’t looking. Johnny couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t just keep avoiding the elephant in the room and force Ten to handle it by himself. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

“I thought it’d be easier with time, you know?” Ten quietly murmured, shakily reaching a hand up and lightly tracing those pouty lips and leaving a trail of salty wetness in its wake. Johnny watched as those tarry eyes followed the path his finger made across the arch of his cupid’s bow down to his bottom lip before pausing there, gaze flicking back up to Johnny.

 “I thought I’d forget about you,” the finger was a heavy weight on his bruised flesh that forced his lips to part. “That it’d be easier,” those eyes narrowed at him as Ten began pressing down on it, free hand snaking to the back of Johnny’s head and gripping his hair, trapping him in place. “That I’d get over you,” Johnny saw an explosion of stars and heard the blood roaring in his head as Ten drilled that finger down. “But guess what?” it was growing painfully hot, his body scorching him from inside and out. “I never did.”

All at once, the pain disappeared before it was back with a vengeance as Ten shoved his fingers in while jamming the heel of his palm against his mouth. Johnny gaged at the sudden intrusion down his throat, but the hand anchoring him down didn’t allow him to reel back. instead, he was stuck drooling all over Ten’s fingers, a disgusting mix of saliva, sweat, and snot running down his face. Tears soon joined in on the mess, leaking out of their own accord as Johnny continued to fight for oxygen. He was growing lightheaded, his body thrumming with heat that had no where to escape. His mind was empty from all thought except for Ten’s fingers in his mouth and his own lack of oxygen before he was suddenly freed, lungs heaving as he caught his breath, torso collapsing onto the mattress with a soft thud as Ten shoved him down.

“That’s when I realized,” Johnny heard him continue, “That I couldn’t forget you.” Ten sounded far, far away even though he was right in front of Johnny’s eyes, still straddled on his hips. Somewhere through the blurry tears and shaky vision, Johnny could make out a movement as Ten reached back behind him. “I couldn’t forget.”

His vision flickered as something warm and slippery tightly gripped his cock and Johnny pursed his lips together holding back a scream that nearly erupted. The stinging pain from his lip surged through his body, but it was strangely pleasurable—especially with the way it cut through all that was going on. His own labored breathing, loud and clear over the growing sounds of crickets and frogs as night settled in; the sweat trickling down his face, a tickling sensation that made him twitch and jerk in response; the drying sticky mess on his face that continued making its presence known to him. To top it off, there was that thumb harshly pressing in jagged circles into that spot just on the underside beneath the tip—the spot that always got Johnny writhing and thrashing in no time as he clawed at anything he could get his hands on.

“I could never forget,” Ten roughly jerked and twisted, making quick work of bringing Johnny to full hardness and reducing him to a drooling mess.

“Not then.” Ten was suddenly a few inches in front of him, his hot breath lingering with the sweet tartness of red wine as it fanned over Johnny’s tacky face.

“Not now.” Those inky eyes were dark and stormy, growing wild and deranged with every passing second as Ten leaned in even closer.

“Not ever.” Ten was so close that Johnny could see the tremble of those delicate lips and the furrow between those fine brows as Ten’s face contorted at the tip of Johnny’s cock brushing up against him.

“Sometimes I hate you for it.”

After that, nothing. All Johnny could see was a blaze of blinding hot white as tight heat engulfed him in such an overwhelming bliss that the ecstasy was borderline painful—almost like shards of glass rushing through his veins. Somewhere through the bliss, he could feel his left foot threatening to cramp from how hard his toes curled in. His nails were carving in angry crescents into his palms and then there was a sharp, unrelenting pain in his shoulder that would not let up. Little by little, his vision began to clear as his body fought its way back to a sense of normalcy. A panting Ten was draped on top of him, his head resting on top of the spot where he had just bitten Johnny.

Johnny opened his mouth to say something only to find his words muffled by his own hand. He pulled it away, shuddering and struggling to tamper down that release that was already rapidly building up. “You can hate me all you want,” Johnny gritted out between breaths. “I know I’ve resented you before.” And it was true. During his lowest points, Johnny would find himself bitter at Ten as he used the other man as his scapegoat for all the pent-up frustration and anguish he held within. But then it’d pass as flighty as the wind and then before he knew it, he was back to yearning for Ten once more.

Ten whimpered—a tiny sound made only in acknowledgement of Johnny’s’ words. Johnny paused for a moment, his heart swooping as he realized how tightly Ten was clenching around him and how hard those slender fingers were digging into his arms. Carefully, Johnny reached up to stroke that sweaty back of Ten’s taking note of how it too had changed over the past few years. It was no longer the slender bony frame that Ten used to have, but a lithe expanse of muscle, tense as Ten continued waiting out the pain. Slowly, Johnny ran his hands along Ten’s back much like he used to do every night, a firm, almost rhythmic-like touch that would always have Ten snugly curling up against him before instantly falling asleep.

Bit by bit, the clenching began to ease up and Ten gingerly sat back enough to take a look at Johnny. “Why’d you do that for?” Johnny frowned at the reddened face and the shimmer of wetness sitting on those lashes.

“I told you,” Ten quietly murmured, cupping Johnny’s face with one hand as he bundled the sheets with the other, “I missed you.” Johnny shut his eyes as Ten gently wiped his face clean of the mess that Ten had created earlier. _‘I missed you.’_ Those words stirred up a flutter in his chest, a quiet bit of happiness that caught in his throat when he opened his eyes again. That look was there again. That happy, joyous one—the one that was so sweet in its quiet merriment that it almost hurt to look it. The one that Johnny saw that one rainy night when he made up his mind to leave.

Ten leaned in to kiss him, a gentle tender kiss that had Johnny gasping out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding until right at that moment. Suddenly needy and desperate, Johnny wrapped his arms around Ten and pulled him in. He needed those lips on him. He needed that skin on his own. After all this time, Johnny didn’t even dare to think he’d ever see that sweet expression on Ten’s face ever again. Not after what he did to Ten. But it was still there—that soft little twinkle in those tarry pools that seemed to dance and twirl; a quiet smile gracing those fine, sardonic lips of his; a tranquil glow that seemed to radiate forth from within. A look that told Johnny that Ten still loved him.

With a singing heart bursting full of Ten, Johnny slowly pushed himself back up into a sitting position as he held on to Ten, watching that sweet expression melt into a surprise of pleasure as the changing angle had Johnny’s cock brushing right up against his prostate. “Good?” Johnny softly asked as he pushed back that damp hair from Ten’s face.

Ten nodded. “Good,” he shyly smiled.

Johnny broke out into a happy beam, cupping Ten’s cheek in a hand and bringing him in for a kiss as Ten began to move. Despite the hundreds of times they’ve fucked over the years, there was just something different about today. Something intimate. Something tender. Something dear. Maybe it was the hot weather. Maybe it was the sticky humidity. Maybe it was just the foreign air of Thailand and the excitement of being somewhere new. Perhaps even the wine that was gradually leaving his system. Whatever it was, it had Johnny feeling a certain sense of elation—a kind of warm comfort coming from somewhere deep, deep within.

It was even different from all the times they had a lazy afternoon to kill, taking their sweet time to make things last for as long as possible before ending it with a languid sort of desperation that had them laying naked in bed for a good hour or so before a knock or a schedule had them finally getting dressed. There was no frenzy today—no franticness. No rush nor hurry to quickly finish before someone interrupted them. There was no burden of that self-doubt he used to have; no strain of feeling inadequacy. No misery, no anguish. Just a peaceful tranquility. Just something that was right.

A soft moan pulled Johnny out of his reverie and he hungrily captured those lips, tasting those honeyed sounds as they washed over him. That slap of sticky skin quietly reverberating over the sounds of night time, the grunts slipping from his own lips at all the heat surrounding him—it was right. Heat from Ten’s body pressed up against him, heat from the slippery slide of tongues, heat from his cock buried deep inside of Ten—all of it, just _right_.

From the looks of it, Ten was also feeling the same sense of happy satisfaction. Each grind of those hips had Ten quietly murmuring Johnny’s name, the syllables a cozy tickle on Johnny’s lips as Ten rested his forehead against Johnny’s. He mumbled about how good Johnny’s cock felt, how much he missed him all these years, how lonely he was. On and on he went, all with that same smile of soft contentment. Not once did he break his gaze from Johnny’s nor did Johnny from him. They basked in each other’s presence letting their eyes and their bodies do all the talking where words wouldn’t suffice.

Another rise and fall of Ten’s weight and Johnny was pulling Ten flush against his thudding chest, their bodies gluiinig together as he buried his head into Ten’s neck. But just as Johnny was about shut his eyes and lose himself in the bliss, a fleck of deep brown caught his eye. He sat back up, tilting Ten’s head back as he exposed that little dot tucked right beneath that sharp jaw of Ten’s. It was a mark that few people knew about and a mark that Johnny had so adored back then and now, putting his lips to it again and again until he felt a rumble and a chuckle from above.

“That tickles,” Ten hoarsely complained with a smile on his lips before he was pointedly wrapping his arms around Johnny’s shoulders and kissing him. Johnny grinned for a moment before he had a hand in Ten’s hair, staring at Ten dead in the eye as he brought his free hand up in front of his mouth. Slowly, Johnny allowed his spit to dribble out onto his palm as those sharp eyes grew heated with what was to come. He watched that twitch of an eye as he wrapped his hand around Ten’s cock, slicking him up and down before closing it into a fist, jerking him as Ten began rocking his hips with purpose now. Dropping his weight didn’t work, grinding circles didn’t work, nor did thrusting his hips. But then-

“There! Right there!” Ten shakily cried out as Johnny inched himself forward, tipping Ten back. He felt Ten clench down around him and Johnny bit down on the inside of his mouth, lesson finally learned. A buzzing sensation starting from the top of his head slinked down his spine, going to the very tips of his fingers and toes. His entire body was tingling, quivering from all that sensation of Ten surrounding him—his warmth, his taste, his scent, his voice—everything. That pool of heat deep down in his groin was boiling now, threatening to overflow at any time, but Johnny beat it back. He couldn’t let himself go. Not yet.

Johnny spat into his hand a second time and held it just around that sensitive tip this time, hissing as he felt Ten tighten up around him in response. Ten was close—so, so close but Johnny could tell that he needed just a little something more, just a little something extra for his second round. “Come on, Ten,” Johnny gripped his silky hair and pulled him in, gazing into those glassy eyes of his. “Come for me.”

Another two pumps and suddenly Ten’s lips were on him, gasping between kisses as he clenched down on Johnny with his body tense and his cock throbbing in Johnny’s palm. Johnny soon followed with a shuddering groan as that vicelike grip tightened even further wringing every last drop out of him until he was writhing and trying to shove Ten off his lap. Even then, Ten wouldn’t let him go until there was semen leaking out onto his balls and threatening to stain the sheets. Only then did Ten satisfy himself, collapsing on top of him.

They laid in a sweaty heap, all smiles and panting giggles turned to hysterical laughter as Ten rolled off of Johnny with a noisy squelch. For a long moment, neither of them moved a single muscle as they basked in the languid afterglow of each other’s presence. With every breath Johnny took, he could feel a tuft of hair tickling his neck. It was right like this. Having Ten curled up against his chest was right. The rhythmic rise and fall of Ten’s chest against his side was right. Those slow lazy blinks as Ten looked up with a sleepy smile was right. Everything, right.

“I love you.”

The words had slipped out before Johnny even had time to think about them. It was just so natural, so normal, so _right_. The three years from then until now was nothing as far as Johnny was concerned. Just a blip in time that he needed to find himself. Yet that sudden stillness in the air broke the spell as Ten stiffened up against him, those tarry eyes growing wide with realization. But before either of them could say anything else, Johnny’s phone vibrated.

They both jumped at the sound, hearts hammering in their chests as the offensive device continued to buzz. Johnny stared at it, adrenaline coursing through his body as he belatedly realized that it was a phone call. Shakily, he reached out for it and looked at his screen. ‘Fullsun’ his phone flashed and Johnny frowned, a mix of foolishness and irritation overcoming him. He had completely forgotten to tell Haechan not to get him anything for dinner.

With a sigh, he answered the call and mouthed Haechan’s name to Ten as noisy chatter came through the earpiece. “Hello?” Johnny greeted him, watching Ten’s face of shock slip into something flat and unreadable as he silently crawled off the bed, disappearing off into the bathroom.

“Hyung!!” Haechan’s distinct voice loudly rang. “Finally! I texted you a few times, but you never replied to me! Did you eat yet?”

“Yeah,” Johnny blandly answered, a small panic gripping him as he followed Ten. He could hear the braying laughter of Taeyong, loud and brash followed by a thud of heavy glass. Likely drinking like he and Ten had been. From the bits and pieces of convo he caught here and there, it sounded like the others were having an absolute blast, but Johnny didn’t care right at this moment. He had a more pressing matter to attend to.

“Good,” Haechan continued, explaining how bad the traffic had been and how they were stuck on one stretch of road for a full hour. On and on he went, rambling about how it was a good thing that Johnny didn’t come and how he was worried that Johnny would be mad at him for taking so long—clearly bored and a little annoyed being the only odd one out of the drunken festivities.

Johnny listened with half an ear, mumbling sounds of acknowledgement where appropriate as he leaned against the doorframe. Ten was in front of the sink with a wad of toilet paper in his hand, cleaning himself off as he pointedly refused to look up at Johnny. _Not again_ , Johnny’s heart sank down to the pit of his stomach as the lull of that siren’s song grew loud. What he and Ten had until now was a good thing—just the simple companionship from a solid friendship that he could count on. Now, it was gone once more. Ruined. Shattered into pieces with no hopes of repair.

_But it’s **right**_ , the teeny tiny little thought bubbled up. It was a simple notion—miniscule and insignificant in both its content and fury in the face of the growing chaos that the siren was stirring up, but like all ideas, it was powerful.

“Look,” he cut Haechan off midsentence. “I’m really tired right now. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he hung up, not even bothering to say bye. Haechan he could take care of later, but he needed to talk with Ten right now.

“Ten,” he quietly called out to him, watching as Ten tensed up at the sound of his name. Yet he didn’t respond to Johnny. “Ten please,” Johnny took a small step inside, trying to catch Ten’s eye through the reflection of the mirror only to have him whip his head away as soon as he caught sight of Johnny. Another step and Ten took the opportunity of the freed doorway to slip past him, strategically stepping just out of reach when Johnny tried to grab him.

There was a pang in Johnny’s chest and before he knew it, he was stalking Ten out of the bathroom, his long legs giving him an advantage as he immediately caught up with Ten. “You can’t do this to me,” Johnny told him, his voice sounding hoarse to his ears, “Not like this. Not after we just fucked.” There was a tremble rattling through him and an uncomfortable feeling deep down—one that seemed to grip and twist his gut inside out, making his mouth water and his head spin.

“Just… let’s just talk it out,” he licked at his lips, no longer cognizant of how bruised they were. He could barely register anything anymore. The heat, the sweat, his own shallow breaths—it was too much. Ten picked his shirt up off the bed and Johnny snatched at it, yanking it out of his hand and throwing it onto the floor.

Ten stared at his empty hands for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as he slumped forward. “Talk about what?” he quietly asked. “What is there to talk about?”

“What??” Johnny nearly laughed, a bubble of hysteria erupting through. “There’s lots to talk about,” he insisted. There was just so much going on right now. So much _noise_. His body was complaining of exhaustion from thirst, the chirping crickets and croaking frogs was all too loud in his ears, the carpet felt nasty and scratchy beneath the soles of his feet. Then there was that gnawing feeling in his stomach growing tighter and tighter. Was this desperation? Anger? Terror?

“Like what?” Ten finally turned towards him, that vicious hopelessness back on his face as he looked at Johnny, tears streaming down his face. “Name one thing,” he whispered. “Name _one_ thing, Johnny.”

At that, Johnny chuckled for real this time. “Name one thing?” he giggled. “I can think of plenty!” There was just so much to say, so much to think to talk about. Too much perhaps. How could he possibly name just one thing? There was the fact they just fucked for one. He even told Ten he loved him—perhaps a bit too prematurely at this point in time, but the deed was done and there was no taking it back now. _One thing? Hah!_ They even had the rest of their lives to discuss. There wasn’t just _one_ thing to say. There was plenty. And yet-

The laughter disappeared just as quickly as it had started. The words were right there sitting at the very tip of his tongue.

“Well?” Ten prompted, his tear-stained face growing stony as he set his jaw, no longer crying. _Cold_ , Johnny idly thought to himself as he began shivering, his armpits growing damp and his fingers going numb. A cold sweat. That twisting feeling was still there in his gut demanding his attention, but Johnny ignored it as the tremors grew violent. Ten folded his arms across his chest, fixing a steely merciless gaze on Johnny.

“I…” Wasn’t there plenty to say? Didn’t he want to tell Ten he loved him again? Didn’t he want to tell him that he knew Ten felt the same way about him? “I…” There was so much he wanted to say, but-

“I don’t know what to say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hurray! finally got this chapter out! sorry it took so long. i was stuck in a writer's block for a good while, but in a way i think it was a good thing since it allowed me to really just take my time trying to write this chapter. it's not edited to the extent that i'd usually comb through it nor have i re-read many of the parts i changed up, i was just _that_ excited to finally finish and share it with you guys (ง •̀_•́)ง i'm hoping that there's nothing too overtly jarring and that it's not too all over the place. i was trying my best to show how complicated things were. i'm also finally nearing the end of my story. i want to say another chapter left, maaaaaybe two, but i'm hoping it's just one. i haven't written it yet, but i do have a plan in mind.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~i swear to god that this is an angst fic with a happy ending.~~
> 
>  
> 
> as always, thanks for reading!
> 
> title namesake: [unlike pluto - don't know what to say](https://open.spotify.com/track/2884EOjlt4A14KL64leEfg) ([yt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYlgadIbH1M))
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunstaeilation)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/kunstaeilation)


	19. History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _We got history_   
>  _Got me feeling the nostalgia_   
>  _When you look at me_   
>  _Thinking 'bout what could have happened_   
>  _Or what could've been_
> 
> — History by Rich Brian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is, folks! the final chapter!

When Johnny finally awoke the next morning, he did not know where he was. It was the day after their Seoul concert, but his mind was just a giant groggy void. He laid in bed blearily staring up at the dull gleam of the ceiling—a flat, even layer of eggshell white, dimly lit except for narrow a beam of sunlight cutting across the room and down the wall beside him. He was in his room. Of course. The fitful dreams he had had last night had clung onto him, seeping into the jumble of his brain as he struggled to rouse himself. Already he could tell that it’d been one of _those_ dreams, the kind that lingered on throughout the entire day as a wisp of a vague something. It was a mood of sorts; a feeling of an inexplicableness that was simply just there.

Images of a room just like his current bedroom made its way through that hazy melancholy. Two beds it had—one narrow, the other wide—both of them sitting on either side of the room. The carpet, scratchy beneath the soles of his feet as he stepped across the creaking wooden floorboards. Flashing neon lights and a noisy crowd of people amongst the quiet rustle of leaves. The sweet scent of coconut verbena on silky raven hair.

_Not again_ , Johnny sighed. With groan and a stretch, he flipped onto his side and away from the blinding little bit of light. Ever since Thailand happened, he’d been dreaming more than ever before, always about the same exact thing: Ten. Bit by bit, that face would come to life always perfectly replicated whether Ten was grinning at him or teary-eyed instead. It always started with those eyes first, cat-like slits of ink, ferocious even when all Ten was doing was simply looking. Then it was that fairy-like nose quickly followed by a set of fine rosy lips with its signature pout of sophistication. After that, that sharp jaw and those long bangs that constantly got in Ten’s way. His face was so burnt into Johnny’s mind that his dreams took on a newfound intensity that had never been there before—one that constantly left him in a state of confusion when he finally woke.

At first, they only happened just once or twice a week. A blip here and there that held him in a wistful nostalgia right up until he went to bed for the night. Yet in a few short weeks, they rapidly ramped up. Sometimes, he’d wake with a peaceful smile on his lips and a lightness in his heart before reality crashed down on him. Other times, it was tears running down his face and bitter relief. On days like that, all the coffee he consumed was useless. The bitter drink energized him, sure, but that quiet pensiveness lingered on, its presence insistently making itself known to Johnny.

Lately however, he started dreaming about Ten every night. He’d crawl into his room, the day’s exhaustion clinging onto him as he collapsed into that cozy mattress. There was no choice for him after all. Concert preparations finally grew arduous just like he had wanted, but in exchange for granting that wish of his he needed to sleep—or more like he _had_ to. Fighting it was futile, so sleep he did, seeing Ten for the next couple of hours before waking the following morning. Day in and day out they’d meet without fail just like clockwork. Worse yet was that the closer the concerts were, the more fitful his sleep was, and thus his dreams. _Of course_.

Now, Johnny didn’t mean to be so bitter about it; dreaming about Ten was strangely comforting in its own way. Those precious few hours in the realm of quiet desire were nothing short of sweet. There, he was free to let his imagination run as wild doing whatever he wanted with Ten whether it was just the mundane everyday things or satiating the more primal. Sometimes, he dreamt of those wacky absurdities instead—the ones that only sleep could be so clever to conjure up.

During those hours, he could see Ten. Not just look at him like he already did now but actually _see_ him. Johnny could touch him, grab him, kiss him, even fuck him if he so desired. Just as delightful was the fact that that fanciful image returned his actions in kind exactly like how the real thing would’ve. Loving caresses, honeyed lips—both freely given to Johnny as a sweet little gift. Sometimes however, Johnny had _those_ kinds of dreams. The ones he dreaded most.

It played itself in silent slow-mo with Johnny as the audience to his very own movie. He saw himself with his rain-soaked clothes glued to his body, sobbing on the floor with all these thoughts running amok. From around the corner was Ten mouthing Johnny’s name as he reached out to him followed by his own tear-stained face contorting into a pained fury, arm flinging out and knocking the shoes over. All at once, there was the dull thudding of shoes followed by a heavy clap of plastic before another long silence. He hadn’t meant to do that—didn’t want to lash out so childishly. Yet he did.

Now, they were both in their room with Ten writhing beneath him. He could still feel that heat on his skin, seared and branded into his flesh as he was forced to follow that path of destruction. Ten, so willing to take whatever Johnny would give him; Johnny, so intoxicated with despair that he couldn’t tell right from wrong. Down they went, slipping, sinking, drowning until that moment where Ten had been so content and then Johnny was yanked into his body, forced to re-live that heartbreak before being casted back out as a simple onlooker once more.

Spare him not did his dream, bringing back memories of Thailand. The food, the drinks, the city; the heat, the humidity, the sweat. Lips on lips, skin on skin. Tears, fury, joy—a whole tangle of emotions and feelings just in a single night. A quiet tenderness, three little words, Haechan’s call. Then nothing but that scratchy beige-colored carpet as he stared at the ground, head between his hands, listening to Ten getting dressed followed by that low hollow thud of the wooden door. After that, a ringing in his ears as he knelt upon the tiled bathroom floor vomiting all that he ate and drank that day before collapsing in bed for his first fitful Ten-filled dream.

Slowly, Johnny’s body gradually caught up with his brain as it grouchily stirred awake. _Do I have a schedule?_ the thought sent him into a near panic before the events of yesterday quickly settled them back down. Today was the rare day off for them to spend doing whatever they wanted, but from the lead-like weight of his limbs, he definitely wasn’t going anywhere today. He flipped back onto his back only to immediately regret it, the movement alerting him to a polite complaint of a queasiness made worse by a heavy fogginess in his head—not quite a headache, but the threat of one.

Sounds of a quiet repetitive tip tapping caught Johnny’s attention and he turned his head only to see Taeyong in his corner busy clicking away at a game. Johnny was almost convinced that the red-haired boy was some kind of god for escaping the nasty effects of a hangover especially after watching the inhuman amount of alcohol Taeyong had downed at the restaurant and then some back at the dorms. Yet one look at those hunched shoulders and that pillow trapped between his chest and knees and Johnny knew that Taeyong was just as fucked up as he was. _Perhaps even more_ , Johnny began to suspect. Taeyong was swaying in his seat and there were pill bottles beside him sitting where they did not belong. The Lee Taeyong, leaving something on his desk instead of putting it away. Definitely fucked.

Satisfied he wasn’t the only one feeling like a miserable mess, Johnny pulled his blankets over his head and conked out once more. This time around, sweet sleep was merciful to him as it gifted him with happier memories of he and Ten. After that night in Thailand, things had been more than simply awkward between the two of them. It’d been excruciating putting on that façade of normalcy the very next day, exhaustion weighing down on him as he trudged into the hallway bracing himself to face Ten. Yet the moment Johnny locked eyes with him, there was that harsh tug of his lips and a sob caught in his throat. All he could manage was a stiff greeting and a muttered excuse of sleeplessness as he tried his best to hold it together. Ten too had issues, flinching the moment he spotted Johnny. They were two peas stuck in a horrible pod, each making the silent agreement to pretend as if nothing had happened the evening before. There was no choice after all. Their closest friends were all gathered in one spot, but unlike their times as rookies it was even harder to maintain the pretense.

Each time he heard Ten’s voice, there was a pang in his chest. Each time he saw that face, there was a familiar sinking feeling. Each time they locked eyes, there were tendrils of misery from the near past. Yet instead of ensnaring him once more, he grieved instead. There was a hollow emptiness inside of him—a loss of something incredibly precious deep down inside. Maybe it was innocence. Possibly hope. However, neither of the two quite seemed to fit what he was feeling. No. This was more like a finality. An unwilling good-bye. An ending of sorts.

He and Ten—they had both just changed so much over the course of three short years without even knowing it. They were no longer those two trainees in that small bedroom of theirs anymore, brazen and naïve in their youth, inexperience instilling a false sense of bravery within them and a needless insecurity and uncertainty for the future. They were older now. Stronger. Wiser. Tougher. Yet they were also timider. Fearful. Time had doled out the harsh lessons of what they could handle, but it also showed them all that they had to lose. Still, Johnny pretended. He had to.

He pretended when Haechan hesitantly shook him awake the following morning after that sweat-filled night, clearly wary of how brisk Johnny had been on the phone. He pretended when they gathered in the hallway of the hotel, pulling his hat down low and a mask over his face in an attempt to fend off probing eyes. He pretended on the plane as well, being unlucky enough to be seated right next to his source of distress, hyperaware of every little movement the man made. Johnny kept pretending and pretending and pretending until he was no longer sure if it was just an act anymore, yet every morning he’d stir awake with that dreamy linger of melancholy and an ache in his chest and that thin veneer was shattered.

By the time Johnny awoke for the second time that day, he was only marginally feeling better. _Shouldn’t have drank so much last night_ , he hauled his body out of bed with a loud groan. Taeyong drowsily looked up at the sound. He seemed somewhat more alert than Johnny was, but the bags beneath his eyes and the blank look as well as that growing clutter beside him said otherwise. One look at Johnny’s similarly ragged state and Taeyong gave him a knowing, sympathetic look. “You want some water?” he held out an unopened bottle to Johnny.

Johnny nodded and took it from him, croaking out a weak thanks before taking a tentative sip. Finding no fury of nausea, Johnny took another couple of mouthfuls before plodding off to the bathroom and washing up. It was quiet in the house—unsurprising after all that they had last night. The only evidence of their afterparty was a clear bag full of empty beer cans and soju bottles sitting by the entrance. If he weren’t so battered he would’ve been thoroughly impressed by the amount, but alas he wasn’t and his stomach was starting to kick up a fuss once more. With unsteady feet, he popped by the kitchen grabbing some ginseng soup that the dorm lady had so thoughtfully cooked up for them all before going back to his room to nurse himself back to a more functioning level.

Once there, he noticed his phone on the floor peeking out from underneath his bed. He didn’t remember dropping it last night but then again, he couldn’t remember much at all. After they returned from the restaurant, it was just a giant blur of drinks being opened, drinking games, and then a giant span of nothing until he woke up just a few hours ago. Johnny frowned at the number of unread messages staring up at him: texts from his parents and from some of his friends back in Chicago. If he couldn’t remember the shenanigans he and the others were up to last night, he more than definitely did not recall ever talking to anyone last night. There were also muted messages from the group chat as well—older texts with videos attached from their antics and the more recent ones trying to piece the events of the night together.

Johnny ignored the group and went to see what his friends and family had to say replying to a few of them here and there. He was about to put his phone back down when a string of words caught his eye. “Oh no,” Johnny whispered, eyes widening and heart sinking as he gripped his phone staring at the letters swimming before him. With a trembling hand, he opened the message only to gasp out loud. All at once, that wrenching in his gut was back and it wasn’t just the fault of last night’s mishap. He put a hand to his mouth, curling in around the device.

“Shit,” Johnny breathed out. “ _Fuck_.” It was a conversation he had with Ten last night—one he had absolutely no recollection of. He stared at his phone reading the same several lines over and over again trying to make sense of how he could’ve been so goddamn stupid. _Out of all things I could’ve said to hm. Out of all fucking things-_ he just had to bring up Thailand. Not only that but in his drunken bravado, Johnny had said the very last thing he should’ve ever said to Ten. He told Ten he loved him. Not even just once. Not twice. Three times. _Three_ times _._ Via text, no less.

Suddenly, the room felt all too uncomfortable for Johnny and he tugged at his shirt collar, pulling it down as he continued staring at the screen. In all his years spent living in a dorm, he had never felt as vulnerable as he did now. Sure it got annoying constantly living with others with the bathroom being the only private space anybody had, but he was used to it; he’d been living like this for the past several years after all. Yet right at this moment—right now in his bed with his own stupidity glaring at him—he found himself struggling and unable to cope. It was suffocating in here. Stifling, even. He was stripped naked for all to see by no fault of anyone but his own dimwitted drunken hands. Worst yet was that there was nowhere for him to hide.

Johnny glanced up at Taeyong who had luckily decided to put some headphones on during the few minutes he’d been gone. If Taeyong had noticed his distress, well, Johnny wasn’t sure he could handle that right now. He was sick to his stomach—his insides twisting and turning, breaths shallow and rapid, his mouth growing slick. Really, he should be going to the bathroom and emptying himself of this awful feeling, but puking was too loud and the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention from any of the others.

Shakily, he scrolled his way back up to the last message he remembered sending, following that the path of foolish intoxication. Their conversation had been so utterly normal and almost mind bogglingly mundane for how drunk he was that Johnny thought that perhaps he was just seeing things but he was dead wrong. He’d been chatting with Ten the whole night—a recent development after all that had happened. That delicate balance had been difficult to find. Every message he sent to Ten was done so after minutes of careful scrutinizing followed by that gnaw of distress as he waited for a response. Slowly and surely however, they fell back into their old patterns, until now anyway. The only thing worse than this was the little mark that let Johnny know that Ten had seen each and every single message.

Johnny chucked his phone in front of him, cradling his stomach as he flopped back down onto the bed, a memory coming to mind. Slow, lazy blinks. A sleepy smile. Warm breaths against his bare skin. It’d been so _right_ at the time; no other way to explain it. It was a feeling that resounded from deep within—something that he knew was correct. And Ten, Ten must’ve felt that rightness too. He could see it on that elegant face that gentle touch. He could taste it on velvety lips and hear it in that fluttering heartbeat. But Ten walked away. He opened that hotel door and left.

Johnny ran to the bathroom.

Another bowl of soup and a concerned manager later, Johnny was back in bed with a slice of bread in hand. This time, he had the room all to himself as Taeyong kindly left him alone. Really, that man was way too giving for his own good especially with how spaced out he’d been, trying to gather some of his belongings before unceremoniously dropping them all on his bed and leaving the room in a daze. Yet, his generosity did give Johnny some much needed time and space he needed to just think especially now that there wasn’t any of that incessant queasiness clouding his judgement and feeding him unnecessary anxiety.

Ever since Thailand happened he heard that call of an old monster, its siren song so sweet and seductive in its attempt to lull him back into its arms. Day in and day out, he struggled against that temptation and its wickedly familiarity. It was an old habit after all—one that found its voice in his weakened state. It was easy too. All it’d take was just giving in and he’d be free once more.

He could do it again. He could handle that torment and anguish. It was better than this—this never-ending fight. Those tendrils of old were here now, so gentle in its touch as they pulled him in for an embrace. Its warmth, so reassuring and soothing when his heart was so beaten and battered. He wouldn’t have to fight anymore. He wouldn’t have to stay vigilant. The exhaustion was dissipating and respite was nigh.

Give in. Let go. Fall.

But-

Beautiful tarry eyes. A warm body tightly pressed against him. A lilting voice, a wisp of breath, the murmur of a heartbeat. No. _No._ He couldn’t go back there. Johnny couldn’t give in and go back to that dark place—not when he had something so wonderful and bright over here.

_Maybe it’s finally time_ , Johnny draped an arm over his eyes with a heavy sigh. Maybe instead of trying to cling onto the past, he should let it go instead. Let go of those demons trying to tempt him. Let go of what he and Ten had. Let go of their cramped little room. After all, they were no longer the same people that they once were—a simple fact that he had refused to acknowledge for the longest time because if he did, then that would really mean the end to it all.

_But maybe that’s a good thing._

Suddenly, everything went still. _Maybe it **is** a good thing,_ a tranquility washed over him. The idea gleamed in the dark, bright and radiant in a sky that had been nothing but dark until now. Something coming to an end meant that something new could start. Maybe he and Ten… _maybe we could try again_. Maybe he could just let go of everything and take that first step he’d been so terrified of—step into that murky blank canvas and leave his own mark instead of painting over the past again and again until he lost sight of what it once was. Maybe he and Ten—maybe they could try again.

_No. Not again_. Trying again would mean that they were continuing from the past and that wasn’t what Johnny wanted. The past had to stop. Otherwise, he’d just fall back into the same routine of self-loathing and misery once more and frankly, he was just sick of it all. But it wasn’t as if he could just go ahead and get rid of what had once been. There was no starting from scratch, no erasing the past. There was just too much between the two. Their friends, their jobs, their dreams—they were just too tightly entwined. They had too many years together and many more to come. _Start over_. Yes. That was it. A word that suggested something new without forgetting the old. He and Ten could start over.

Johnny picked up his phone.

* * *

By the time Ten finally decided to answer Johnny’s text, the tour in Japan was just around the corner. When he got the message, he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of it. He’d been waiting and waiting and waiting for three days by now, obsessively checking his phone to the point where he was forced to put it somewhere far away, lest he wanted questions from all the others. So, when he finally fished his phone out of his backpack he nearly dropped it the moment the screen lit up.

_‘Ten,’_ the name jeered at him in bold letters, a taunting little three-lettered word. Johnny gripped at the device, his heart hammering in his chest as the chatter faded into silence. It was finally here. The very thing he’d been waiting for in all its heart stopping anticlimactic glory of _‘We gotta talk’_ was here. It was a short phrase that perfectly fit the narrow space of his phone screen without any indication  that there was anything more to look at. ‘ _We gotta talk.’_ That’s it. Johnny’s legs gave out as he sagged down on a bench, a mix of relief and apprehension settling down on him. _Of course_ , Johnny bitterly smiled to himself. What else did he expect? This wasn’t a simple matter after all.

“Johnny-hyung!” he heard Jungwoo’s soft voice echo from across the gymnasium. “It’s time to go!” Johnny nodded and gathered his belongings. When he finally picked up his phone to send that text, he had debated apologizing for his drunken messages. He _had_ been drinking after all, but at the same time there wasn’t any of that guilt and shame—at least, not in that visceral gut-wrenching way. Why was that? Johnny had been confused at first, scratching his head as he tapped a couple of words out only to immediately delete it before rewording what he just said and repeating the same process once more. He had been intoxicated and he said some inappropriate things-

_But there’s nothing wrong_ , Johnny finally concluded. He felt bad about his state of inebriation, but there was simply nothing wrong with anything he said, inappropriate or not. In fact, he felt… well he wasn’t quite sure what he felt. _Justified? Validated? Correct?_ Johnny frowned as he trailed behind Jungwoo, crawling into the van. None of those words were what he was looking for. There was no argument nor a point to prove. Not even a petty squabble to settle. There was just a kind of rightfulness to it. A truth. Not righteousness where there was a moral high ground nor that smug arrogance of superiority, but something that was just _right._ It was right to tell Ten how he felt after all these years. More than just right, really. It was absolutely liberating to just get it out there and off his chest. So, instead of a lengthy apology that he thought he thought he should do, he simply went with how he felt. He apologized for his drunken behavior—that much he _did_ feel guilty for—but he also told Ten that meant every single word he said that night. It was a simple message. Sincere.

It also took Ten three days to reply.

He let out at sigh, sinking back into the leather car seat and closed his eyes. The glow of streetlights blipped by as the rumble of tires lulled him into a drowsy daze. At the very least, Ten had messaged him back and for that Johnny was more than grateful. He was beginning to suspect that Ten was just going to ignore the entire affair and force Johnny back into their horrible game of make-believe, but he didn’t.

“Maybe,” Johnny sleepily murmured to himself, his limbs growing heavy and his mind going blank. _Maybe we have a chance._

They couldn’t meet up until well after Johnny was back from Osaka; none of their schedules coincided and honestly, Johnny was wary of bothering Ten too much about it as much as he wanted to. All his attempts at trying to strike up a conversation with him was met with a stony silence making it clear that the only question Ten would humor was about when they could meet and even then, the replies were frigid one-worded answers.

Each day seemed to drag by all too slowly while simultaneously zipping past. The hours spent going through rehearsals and briefings, the hours spent practicing Japanese with Yuta and their language teacher, the hours spent packing and getting into a van and then flying—they achingly crawled by. The two concerts, a flight back, and more waiting. Talk of a Japanese album rapidly followed by a flurry of activity that the guys had no say in as the higher ups negotiated an agreement before calling them in for even more meetings that had Johnny wanting to tear off his skin from taking up all his time. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he didn’t even catch a glimpse of Ten ever since the whole fiasco. Not once. Not in the practice rooms, not in the hallways. Nada. He was starting to go a little nutty with all this constant waiting around when all he really wanted to do was see Ten already, but then _finally_. A day where they could meet.

When Johnny first arrived at the rendezvous, he was calm. As soon as he saw that his schedule matched up with Ten’s, all that restlessness and impatience he had up until now disappeared all at once. Gone. _Poof_. In its place was a quiet peacefulness settling down over him as he stood in front of the door taking a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘Practice Recording Studio 3’ the words stared back at him in its bold, black text. Ten’s idea. It was an odd choice to say the least, but one that Johnny immediately understood.

He closed his eyes and took a breath feeling the rise of his chest against soft cotton and the dull ache of his lungs being filled to capacity before letting it all out in a whoosh of warm air. Calm. He was calm. Serene, even. Up until now, everything felt like a forced caricature of a simple, ordinary friendship between he and Ten. Wishing him Merry Christmas, calling him on New Years about their teaser, congratulating him on finally making his debut when WayV’s version of Regular came out—all of it done out of an obligation and expectation of what was normal. But things weren’t normal between them. Not in the way they wanted, anyway. Still, nothing of what Johnny said was ever insincere. It’s just that things were a touch complicated, kind of like a tinge of color that tinted their friendship in such a way that it was all Johnny could ever see when it came to Ten.

_But now,_ Johnny exhaled once more as he opened his eyes, _It’s finally time to put an end to this._ He held a card in front of a scanner waiting the half second it took for it to beep and the dull clunk of bolts sliding before letting himself in. It was dark inside. Quiet. He felt for the switch and the room was basked in a warm yellow glow of fluorescent lights just as Johnny spotted a familiar figure in the far corner of the room.

“You scared me,” Johnny murmured closing the door behind him. He wasn’t expecting to see Ten so soon, not when he himself was earlier than expected—a rare treat during his busy schedule these days. Ten sat on a bench by the piano hugging his legs into his chest, a plastic cup of melted ice beside him. There was only the tiniest of movement as Ten turned away from Johnny, the only bit of acknowledgement of his presence that he got. Johnny stood by the door pursing his lips with a ghost of a smile and a twinge in his chest. This was going to be as difficult as he imagined it to be. Looking about the room, he spotted a stool and dragged it out of his corner grimacing at the scrape of plastic against ceramic tile.

The minutes crawled by without so much as a single word from either of them and Johnny was getting antsy, but it wasn’t the quiet that was bothering him. It was the silence. The padded pewter walls muted the usual everyday noises that he didn’t know were there until the moment he stepped into a place like this. Here, everything was perfectly quiet—his voice crystal clear without any reverb, its tone crisp and pure. It was meant for them to practice singing after all, but now however, it was his enemy. He was under a microscope, his movements exposed and broadcasted to Ten’s ears. The crackle of a joint, the shuffle of his clothes—even the whisper of his very own hair. If Johnny paid attention, he could even catch the soft murmurs of his own breathing and how it’s pattern would stutter whenever he took notice. His fingers twitched in his lap, but he did nothing else.

Another minute, more waiting, and a creak of the chair as Johnny shifted in his seat. Ever since he came in, Ten hadn’t budged a single inch. He seemed smaller than usual today as well staying in that same huddled ball with his face buried in his arms. It was a rare pose that Johnny was more than familiar with and one he hadn’t seen in a long while but seeing it now in front of him stirred up a small flutter in his chest. He could feel that little bubble, that tiny twirl as he continued to wait. Being allowed to see Ten in such a state was special; he was a prideful person after all but not with Johnny. Never with Johnny. To see that Ten still held him important enough to allow Johnny to see him like this- _Maybe, maybe, maybe_.  

A soft murmur of noise caught his attention and Johnny looked up to see Ten unfurling himself bit by bit. Ten’s feet dropped to the floor with a dull thump while his hands gripped at the edge of the bench, still not quite looking at Johnny even as he turned towards him. A flash of pink poked out as he licked at his chapped lips, neck muscles twitching and jumping with each movement. They were the only two things that Johnny could see beneath that hood of his—a simple black cotton pulled down low over his face.

“Ten?” Johnny prompted.

Ten froze at the sound of his name, head drooping down even further between his legs as he steadied himself on his thighs. “I just don’t know what to say, Johnny,” he softly murmured. “Everything hurts.”

“Hurts?” Johnny repeated. A nod. More silence. Johnny bit his lip as a pang in his chest sent a prickle to his eyes. “What hurts?”

Those clasped hands tightened together as Ten considered his simple question. “You. Me. This. Everything. It’s like a giant mess in my head. One I can’t get out of.” He straightened up and rubbed at his arm, staring at the floor and letting his hand flop back down onto his lap. “No matter how I think about it, no matter how _much_ I think about it, I just… I just don’t know,” he paused.

“When Haechan called that day, I was terrified you know.” His voice was quieter now. Softer. “I’ve ever felt that way before—scared. All I could think of was what would’ve happened if he came in. What would he say? What would he do? Would he tell someone? Tell the manager? And if he did, what then? What would happen to us? What if… what if we got caught?” he balled his hands into fists, finally looking up.

As soon as their eyes met, Johnny’s chest tightened and he dropped his gaze to the porcelain white tiles. There had been deep creases beneath those long, narrow eyes of Ten’s and a kind of hollowness that only days of sleepless nights could bring. What’s more was that look Ten had given him. It wasn’t the same flat hopelessness that he saw in Thailand but a tortured agony instead—a push and pull of a battle going on deep within.

“What if we got caught, Johnny?” Ten’s voice dragged Johnny’s attention back up. “What if we _get_ caught? What then? What would become of us?”

They were familiar questions that he asked—ones that Johnny had considered many years ago but unlike Ten he never took them seriously. They were more like a fleeting curiosity to him, something he briefly wondered about before his bigger demons quickly shoved it aside. That was, until that one rainy day. The beast had found a sentience on that day and it latched onto the question, twisting it into a lovely temptation to chuck all that he’d achieved up until then and go down that path of inane desire. It’d been so tantalizing then to throw aside his misery and just give in to wicked destruction, so appealing that for a wild moment he nearly gave into that siren, but he didn’t. It wasn’t what he wanted nor was it the kind of person he wanted to be. What he wanted was _life_. To _exist_. Happiness.

“That’s just an if,” Johnny replied. “Nothing has happened yet.”

“But something could’ve!” Ten busted out, his sunken eyes giving that wide-eyed stare another layer of unhinged ferocity that startled Johnny. That shrill voice sat suspended for a moment, an all too loud of a sound for the padded room before Ten sagged against the piano, staring at the ground. “I’m sorry,” he shrank back. “I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. I’m sorry.”

Johnny pursed his lips contemplating that sudden outburst. If it was rare seeing Ten in a vulnerable state, it was even rarer to see an emotional outburst. Ten was the type to constrain himself, the kind that grew quiet and reticent as he disappeared inside dealing with his issues by himself rather than seeking help from someone else—the complete opposite of Johnny. The harder things were, the more reserved Ten grew but it seldom ever came down to that. Most things were swiftly dealt with the moment they came up. If not, they were easily pushed aside without a moment’s more wasted on it. But now however, now was completely different. There was a burden in those words—a kind of weariness and exhaustion that was all too familiar to Johnny.

Wordlessly, he stood up and brought his stool over in front of Ten, his footfalls a muted pitter patter as he stepped across the floor. _It’s kind of strange_ , he thought to himself. Strange how wildly things could change in a matter of weeks. Strange how fragile their so-called friendship had been all this time. Tentatively, he reached out towards Ten and gently took that slender hand in his own when he found no resistance. That palm was a familiar weight—small and elegant, yet deceptive in its strength and power just like the rest of Ten. But now that hand was trembling and Johnny entwined their fingers together, holding him steady between his own larger hands. “Talk to me,” Johnny murmured. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Ten tensed up and for a moment, Johnny was convinced that he was going to pull away but, that look of alarm dropped off replaced by a weariness as Ten slumped forward and laid his head against Johnny’s shoulder. “I’m just scared,” he quietly admitted, sighing and cuddling close when Johnny pulled him in for an embrace. “I’m scared all the time lately and I hate it. I feel so weak and useless and I…,” he trailed off, licking his lips before continuing on. “When I heard that you were all alone in the hotel, I just had to see you. I _needed_ to see you. Maybe that was too greedy of me.”

“Yeah?” Johnny gave a small smile, a flare of delight sparking in him. He hadn’t expected Ten to be so receptive to anything, not when he’d been so adamant about avoiding Johnny for the past few weeks. It was an unspoken little promise that whispered what Johnny didn’t dare suspect ever since Thailand happened. With long smooth movements, he rubbed at Ten’s back and tugged his hood down for a better look at his face. “Why do you say that?”

“I dunno…,” Ten’s eyes fluttered shut. “I guess I didn’t feel happy enough.” Little by little, Ten relaxed against him as Johnny continued to knead at his back, that tension dissipating as his worries were coaxed out of him. “I feel like I should’ve just been happy with what I had. I should’ve satisfied myself with just being able to debut, but I just… _God_ ,” his voice cracked, falling mute once more.

“But you just what?” that spark shrank by the second as Ten remained silent. “Ten?” he waited a moment longer before gently pushing him back by the shoulders and glimpsing a shiny trail running down the side of his face. Before he knew it, Johnny was cradling Ten tight against him, one hand around his waist and the other buried in his hair. “You have to tell me Ten,” Johnny mumbled into those soft strands, “You gotta talk to me.”

A quiet sniffle followed by a shaky breath as Ten desperately clung onto Johnny. “I just… I missed you so much,” he whispered in a voice so soft that Johnny barely heard it even in the silence of the room. “I thought that things were finally going the way I wanted. I thought that maybe we could’ve… you know. Had a chance. Then, Haechan called and I… we’re just not meant to be, are we?” Those eyes were shiny and bright as Ten looked up before crumpling over and weeping.

Each hiccup drove a stake into Johnny’s chest, yet there was just a little something that bothered him—something that didn’t seem quite right. _He’s wrong_ , the thought instantly came to Johnny. Ten was simply plain wrong. If anything, he and Ten _were_ meant to be. There was just no mistaking it. That’s why they were here after all this time, after all these _years_. Just as sure as the sun rose and set with every passing day, just as sure as the tides ebbed and flowed with the glow of moonlight—they were meant to be. They were each other’s night and day, body and soul. That was it. This wasn’t the raving of a crazed man nor that erratic impulsiveness of someone teetering on the edge; it was just a quiet little truth, a modest certainty, a humble conviction. Yet as unassuming as it was, it bore a teeny life deep inside his heart of hearts.

_Oh_ , a realization settled down on Johnny. _Oh_. _This_ was what Ten meant along, this peace of mind, this satisfaction, this _feeling_. A pure, simple emotion vastly different from all the other ones before. It had none of that rainy wickedness that strapped him down sending him towards destruction, but neither did it have that sweat-filled indignance at life. This was just perfectly mundane and almost boring in its simplicity, but now for real this time, Johnny just simply was.

Bit by bit the sobbing calmed down to an occasional blubber and Ten quietly remained in Johnny’s arms, his thinner ones still wrapped around Johnny’s waist. With every gentle rise and fall Johnny felt against him, there was a vigor flowing inside of him. Each beat of that heart was a snug warmth in his veins. The quiet murmurs of sniffles, the tickling wisps of hair, the slow fluttering blinks against his neck— _life_.

“I love you,” Johnny ran his fingers through Ten’s hair, watching how those dark strands caught and reflected the light. Unanxious, unworried—that tense body in his arms did not bother him. “Really. I do,” Johnny leaned back and smiled as he tilted that wonderful face towards him. “Whether it was then or now, whether it’s today or tomorrow, it’s never going to change.”

“But…,” Ten trailed off as he searched Johnny’s face, gaze wide and round as they darted back and forth. In those eyes were thousands of thoughts zipping by and a thousand more questions lingering about. Fear, doubt, hope, desire—all of it adding to that jumble within. Each and every single one of them a distant familiarity, now so trivial and unimportant that Johnny wanted to laugh at it all. They just didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered, not like that. All there was was the here and now and that little glimmer of something hidden deep within that tangle of Ten’s.

“I know,” Johnny soothed him. “I know.” It was all he had to say: two simple little words that stuttered that mess of thoughts in its tracks. In the bit of stillness, the glimmer grew into a soft glow, hypnotizing and pulsating as it whispered a secret to Johnny before being hidden away once more, but Johnny heard. He heard and knew what it was and what it held. All he had to do was find it.

Slow and deliberate, he trailed his fingers down along the side of Ten’s face feeling that velvety warmth, eyes locked with Ten’s as he sought for that shimmer. Down his hand slid from cheek, jaw, chin to those fine lips and Ten shuddered, a sigh escaping from him. With it came a bright flare far, far away into the distant that disappeared just as quickly as it had sparked, but Johnny grasped at it and kept it in sight shoving his way towards it as he captured Ten’s lips and swallowed that gasp. “Don’t think about it,” Johnny whispered, their mingled breaths a tickle against skin. “Think about nothing.”

All at once, Ten was upon him hands yanking Johnny as close as possible as his tongue demanded for Johnny’s. The slide was hot and desperate, sloppy sounds louder than normal and fueling an excitement unlike ever before—almost too much of it. A pair of hands shimmied up Johnny’s body leaving trails of heat blazing through the thin fabric. Up and down they went from the middle of his back to his shoulders and neck before diving down once more, fingers slipping just past Johnny’s waistband and lighting a fire deep inside as Ten dragged his nails across that bit of skin.

“ _Christ,_ ” Johnny growled out, fingers digging into Ten’s hips as that sensation slinked up his spine. Yet Ten wasn’t done with him—not in the least. He pulled Johnny in closer still, ignoring Johnny’s half-hearted protests of falling off his chair as Ten pressed kisses along his neck, wet skin rapidly cooling with every new patch Ten found. Up Ten went licking, nipping, and teasing until Johnny was nothing but a writhing mess held hostage by him, forced to hold himself steady in his seat and unable to do much else other than take.

A puff of hot air rolled across the side of Johnny’s jaw and he whined knowing what was coming next. “T-Ten,” he tried again only for that name to turn into a ragged moan, a bliss exploding through him as Ten licked at his ear. But before either of them could say anything more, Johnny’s arms gave out beneath him and down they went in a tangle of limbs and confusion.

They stared at one another before bursting out into laughter, sounds of mirth and joy rolling off the walls. “Told you I was going to fall,” he swatted Ten’s ass, keeping his hands there as he tried to pout up at him, but the attempt didn’t last long—not with the way Ten was smiling down at him with a tender joy.

“So beautiful,” Johnny mumbled, gazing up at Ten.

“I mean that’s sweet and all, but could you guys hurry it up or something?”

They both froze, hearts leaping out of their chests as they whipped their heads to the door coming face to face with a familiar light honey-blonde hair. Yuta. “Wh- Ho-,” Johnny’s tongue tripped in his mouth. _Yuta? Here? When did that happen? How did that happen?_ He craned his head to the side for a better look at him, unable to comprehend why he was just standing there by the door way.

“How long have you been there?” It was Ten who found his voice first, the words an agitated whisper as he gaped and dug his fingers into Johnny’s arms.

“Long enough,” Yuta dawdled out, glancing at his phone before shoving it back in his pocket. “The manager sent me to come get Johnny earlier but, well, you two looked a bit preoccupied.”

Johnny furrowed his brows. He didn’t recall hearing anything earlier—not the beep of the door nor the clunking of locks. “But…” _But how?_ he wanted to ask him. The two sounds were distinct even if they weren’t exactly noisy. He glanced up at Ten and saw the same horror of bewilderment written all over his face, those cogs rapidly turning as he tried to answer the exact same question.

Yuta sank down into a squat and stretched himself before springing back up onto his feet and sighing when neither Ten or Johnny budged. “Look. I didn’t want to be the one interrupting you two but when you didn’t pick up your phone, manager-hyung said he was going to come looking for you,” his eyes flicked from Ten to Johnny. “So,” Yuta stretched an arm out with a yawn, “I told him I’d do it for him before that happened. You should be thanking me really. Now, are you planning to return back any time soon or can we just go first?”

“But why are you _here_?” Johnny blurted out. Not quite the question he wanted to ask, but still a question of sorts and that alone was enough to get his mouth and brain slowly working again.

“I told you, the manag-“

“No,” Johnny quickly shook his head, hair ruffling against the tile. “I don’t mean _that_. I mean- Well-,” he tried to look back up at Ten again, but he had long since sat back on Johnny’s lap, pulling his face out of Johnny’s field of view.

Yuta blankly stared for a moment, a flash of realization crossing his face. “Oh yeah, that. I’ve already known for years,” he shrugged. “You two aren’t exactly the best at hiding things.”

Johnny paused, mind reeling as he quickly added up how long he’s known Yuta for. “Years…?” he stared in disbelief.

“Yep. Years,” Yuta frowned and fished his phone from his pocket, staring at the display. “Anyway, are you staying or going? The others want to go and manager-hyung’s chasing me down.”

“Staying,” Ten quickly answered before Johnny could even think through the question. Johnny looked up at him with a question on his lips before nodding at Yuta’s direction in agreement.

“Alright then,” Yuta tapped a message out. “Make sure you pick up next time hyung calls,” he waved at them leaving them in silence once more. As soon as the door closed, they sat in a stunned silence.

“Years…,” Johnny shook his head as an ancient memory of his bruised face came to mind. “Of all people,” he muttered. _Of course_. “I guess we didn’t have much to worry about, huh?” he sheepishly smiled at Ten, getting a small nod and an equally awkward reaction in response. Little by little, those half smiles quirked up into lopsided grins and forced laughter before quickly devolving into a fit of hysteria that had them chuckling and howling until there were tears in their eyes and a stich in their side. There was a joviality in their laughter; an airy twirl in their heart. All those years spent sneaking around, all that time spent tormented by the what ifs and buts—it was just a quiet little nothing now.

Johnny could see it, see a long empty road stretched out far into the horizon in front of him. Behind him were all the days of the past. Joyful ones, painful ones; Johnny passed them one by one revisiting each memory with a humble fondness in his heart. He could remember it all, remember the day he first met Ten. How he hugged his parents for the last time before he stepped on that plane from Chicago to Seoul. How his new friends had happily greeted him even though they were simple acquaintances then. How the delightful bit of fondness when he met this stranger named Ten blossomed into something entirely unexpected.

Now, Johnny was in a darker place, a cragged barren where the road was nowhere in sight. The signs bemoaned the agony of life, claiming calamity and catastrophe as it begged for Johnny to turn back and stay away. It was a place with no dreams, no hope—only ruin and despair should Johnny venture forth, but go forth he did, tripping and howling as he fell again and again. The sun beat down on him, the jagged rocks tore at the soles of his feet, his lips ran crimson as they split and cracked, yet he walked. He walked when the nights turned rapidly frigid. He walked when his mind had long since given up. He walked because he had to and he walked because he needed to. But then-

There—a little glimmer, a little light and Johnny chased after it running until his legs refused to move, panting until his lungs refused to breath, reaching out until his heart refused to beat, but still he went. There was a small something that that spark had promised him, a tiny hope, a bit of joy. _Just keep going_ , it told him. _Just keep trying. Just keep pushing_. Keep going, keep trying, keep pushing. Keep going, keep trying, keep pushing. Go, try, push, and suddenly, suddenly-

Johnny smiled up at Ten, a dizzy contentment rushing through him. Freedom. _Happiness_. He had finally found it. Johnny had finally found the very thing he wanted most.

“Hey.” Ten stirred against him, strands of hair a tickle along Johnny’s face as he poked at him.

Lazily, Johnny opened an eye and looked up at him. “What?”

“Let’s go to Chicago one day.”

Johnny paused and picked his head off the ground, staring at Ten for a long moment. It was there in those tarry eyes that glimmer was—bright, hopeful, and shining. An unspoken promise. “Okay,” Johnny quietly agreed.

Satisfied, Ten laid back down only to stir once more as he propped himself up against Johnny’s chest. “Hey.”

“Mm?” Johnny slurred out.

A pause. A silence. A heartbeat. “I love you.”

Johnny looked up at him, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “Love you too.”

****

END

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooooooohoooooooooo! my very first story, finally complete! thank you to all the readers who've stayed with me from the start, the ones who wandered in during the middle, and the ones who've only just now found my story <3 i hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed telling it and i hope you guys will come visit again in the future! 
> 
> i originally started this story way back in january and didn't start posting until march when i thought i was done. turns out, not only was i not done, but i wouldn't be done for months to come. there was just a point where i was editing before i posted where i realized things weren't going the way i wanted so i changed it up entirely and rewrote it half way through. as a result, my working document is just shy of 120k words, hah! never in my life would i thought i'd write so much let alone complete a story, but here we are! i'm super happy to finally finish and i'm happy to get a story i've been wanting to tell off my chest, so once again, thanks for reading and thanks for joining me ( ´▽` )
> 
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